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LIBRARY OF CONGRESS. 



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UNITED STATES OF AMERICA. 



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THE 



Temple of Alanthur 



WITH OTHER POEMS 



ISAAC R. BAXLEY 




NEW YORK & LONDON 

G. P. PUTNAM'S SONS 
1886 






COPYRIGHT BY 

ISAAC R. BAXLEY 



Press of 

G. P. Putnam's Sons 

New York 




CONTENTS. 









PAGE 


Overture to the Poems 


V 


The Temple of Alanthur .... 


I 


I. — Naredin's Importunity 


3 


II. — The Prayer of Alanthur 


9 


III. — Ranethis and Naredin . 


13 


IV. and V. — Alanthur's Love and the Temple 


17 


VI. — The Faith of Ranethis . 


24 


VII. — Naredin's Revenge .... 


28 


VIII. — The Judgment of Osiris 


32 


The Ballad of Sir Raymond .... 


37 


My Soul's Holiday . 




43 


Baldric and Lissoy 








48 


Inspiration 








58 


Song . 








61 


Art 








63 


Love . 








65 


Nature 








67 


The Gold-Dream 








69 


Lake Shadows . 








74 


The Echo-Hunter 








80 


A Vision 








84 



IV 



CONTENTS. 



Songs of Dalmedar — 

The First Song of Dalmedar . 
The Second Song of Dalmedar 
The Third Song of Dalmedar 

The Wedding-Night of Emmaline 

The Tale 

The River Xenil 

Beauty 

Song of the Serpent to Eve . 

The Journey of Lord Eglamore 

Finale to the Poems 



92 

94 

98 

lOI 

103 
124 
126 
128 
130 
135 





OVERTURE TO THE POEMS. 



/^ THOU who readest, in silence, or if stirred 

^-^ Belike by kindred cry, or that we cast 

Our eyes upon the self-same visions and 

Did walk, with varying fate, a road at intervals — 

Hear more, — hear of me what I leave undone. 

My secret purposes, — unuttered — wild — 

Evasive — fleeing from the forms of speech — 

Untethered — mocking — 'scaped — superior 

To me and to my stratagems of thought, — 

Are not encompassed here, but evermore 

Whirl in their unabated circuits round 

My helpless eyes — in distance from my hands. 

Them powerless I pass, and would cast out 

These weaker fellows from captivity 

Of human speech unto their ancient forms, 

But, like a 'leagured city, that I dread 

An onset of these enemies combined 

Upon a citadel impoverished 

By failure, time, and long, unequal war. 

If I have conquered these they must remain : 

If I have stolen the flame and smothered it — 

If I have dropped the lids of blinded eyes 

Upon th ' imprisoned remnant of a ray 



VI OVERTURE TO THE POEMS. 

From fires divine, the light is forfeited — 
With me it must remain. 

Hast also thou 
In contest with opposing images 
Beheld the nobler bearing off their arms, 
And shields with legends that thou couldst notread, 
Prizes thou thoughtest dear, — bearing away 
Their faces of intelligence refined 
And echoing in the distance with their words ? 
Such were the stronger ; in thy hands were left 
Baser and more ignoble presences. 
Weak evidence of an unboastful war : — 
So these — punier opponents — are entrapped. 

Yet rise ! If these beleaguers of my soul, 

Fretful returning to their constant aim. 

Pass sometimes from my sight — content to draw 

In safety out — I have the battle well. 

The heroes of the brain have vantages 

Of dreadful might, and chains of burden sore. 

They hold the passwords of unfathomed pits. 

And clanging keys, swinging in heavy doors. 

Turn to their touch — withdrawing in their hands. 

' T is now enough if, chainless and at will, 

I walk contending o'er the daily field : 

Enough my captives, weak or innocent : 

Enough my freedom and renewed escape 

From the dark cells which open frequently 

To feet like mine — treading the ways of thought. 

So sing I the glad song of battle, and, 

Unbounden yet, find excellence enough 

That the bright sun still strikes reflecting arms. 



OVERTURE TO THE POEMS. Vll 

If these opposing, being of noble 'spect, 
Ranging to hither doAvn the stretching sides 
Of high-grown hills — descending to the fight — 
If such return, and I, unconquered, 
Mount to the upward paths where shine their arms — 
Following the foe — perchance I shall discern 
Lofty encampments where their pleasures lie 
And whence they draw their atmosphere of light. 

I shall not war alone. By intervals 
Others, intent upon adventurous ways. 
Catching the glittering of engaged swords, 
Ripe for a conflict, shall the question 'spouse 
And aid me with their arms. Then at the foot 
Of many a trophy, built on pinnacle. 
Celebrate to the victory of man, 
Shall danger thicken and the battle wait. 

Along the road ray lips are impotent ; 

Broken my songs, with effort interspersed 

Harshly throughout the failures and delay. 

Above the ways elastic air and light 

Electrify our impulses — bestow 

To parted lips, wide from the heats of war, 

Rare volumes of an issuable song 

Willing and strifeless — attainable and sweet. 

This but the earnest of an after day : 

This is the prelude to the shifting scenes 

By clouds remote and provinces of sun. 

These songs obstructed — imperfect forms of 

speech — 
Shall on those summits excellence attain : 
Outbursts of ease, symbolic of the powers 



viii OVERTURE TO THE POEMS. 

Moving quick throngs on regions elevate, 
Shall be the sequence of these limitate 
And fettered forces of my present self : — 
To-day the effort — then some splendid song. 

And thou who readest then, courageously 
Burnish thine arms : if weaker, follow me ; 
If stronger, drop protection from thy shield. 





"^*^w'^M^^a^M^^«^ 



THE TEMPLE OF ALANTHUR. 



]\TAREDIN, a demi-god, son of Thoth, and a 
*■ ^ mortal, becomes enamoured of Ranethis, an 
Egyptian maid, betrothed to the architect Alan- 
thur, who is constructing a temple to Thoth. Lib- 
erty is conceded Naredin by Thoth to press his 
desires with Ranethis, who resists them and expires 
from the doubts and turmoils which she cannot 
support. Naredin, inflamed by the loss of Rane- 
this, and his own godhead, destroys a portion of the 
Temple of Alanthur, and is accordingly judged by 
Osiris. 

I. Naredin's Importunity. 

II. The Prayer of Alanthur. 

III. Ranethis and Naredin. 

IV. and V. Alanthur's Love and the Tem- 
ple. 

VI. The Faith of Ranethis. 

VII. Naredin's Revenge. 

VIII. The Judgment of Osiris. 





I— NAREDIN'S IMPORTUNITY. 



T^ALL organs, gleaming on Heaven's highways 
■^ broke 
Into vibration as the young God passed, 
Fitful and angry, to his father's throne. 
Thoth sat forever, immeasurably sad, 
With eyes, beyond divine or wisdom's ken. 
Fixed on the far-off fountains of his thought. 
So Naredin, parting the veil of clouds 
Which rolled incessant round his father's throne — 
Breaking and swelling with inspired light — 
Stood 'neath the shaded eyes awaiting speech. 
Long time, scanning low plains of unknown worlds 
Revolved the deity immortal laws. 
Then, with the shadow of those distant shores 
Hung on his lids, turned to the suppliant's face. 
*' O father, in thine eyes I quivering stand ! 
Eyes filled with essences of power and thought — 
Forgetful eyes of love or kindling light — 
But yet that once, deepest in passion's fire. 
Blazed with immortal brightness upon earth 
And drank the glory of a human heart ! 
Father — the pulses of my mother's breast . 
3 



4 NAREDIN'S IMPORTUNITY. 

Beat in my bosom ; the fierce heat of love 
Darts off my forehead, and I, but partly God, 
Burn with immortal passions — wanting power, 
Bethink thee how, from plenitudes of space. 
Thou didst descend — enfolded on the breasts 
Of mortal woman and wert full of joy, 
Thou the great Thoth — the Intellectual God — 
Symbol of insight — most eliminate 
And spiritual of Heavenly Kings — that thou 
Should'st linger in the folded arms of earth, 
And drop thine eyelids over piercing eyes, 
Drawing intensity from woman's lips. 
Forgive, O father, that I plead my cause ; 
Forgive my footsteps, glancing from the ways 
Of airy Heaven, rolling with the clouds, 
To soil my sandals with the dust of worlds. 
Send not reproof with changeless, steadfast gaze, 
Send back thy thoughts on far, untrodden paths, 
Burning with swiftness of thy heavenly feet 
Quickly descending o'er ethereal realms 
And dropping with the evening upon earth. 
Think on thy downward wanderings — and forgive." 

Thoth, with regretful memories, wistfully : — 

" The laws that with Osiris equal are, 

Coeval with the dignities of him 

First in the Heavens, did ordinate that Thoth 

Should stoop to woman. In long ages since, 

More than thy semi-mortal mind can run, 

A Spirit of the superior universe. 

In wantonness contending with a maid, — 

To ignorance opposing Kingly wile — 



NAREDIN'S IMPORTUNITY. 5 

Bound up a circlet of enduring pain 

And in mad love's embraces locked it fast. 

Deserted, lost, forlorn, her anguish rung 

Thro' the tall domes of Heaven, and pierced the 

Gods. 
Osiris, of revengeful justice full, 
Unwrapt the scrolls of judgment — falling far — 
Unbinding, out of time, the Books of Fate. 
Then on the pages of immortal law- 
Fate wrote these letters of a great decree : — 
* Earth fell by Love and Madness — Heaven shall fall 
Madly to Earth — devouring Love and Death.' 
First in the pomps of Heaven Osiris is ; 
Isis is his, and equal in his glory ; 
I next ; Great Thoth, God of the even mind ; 
Sounding the intellect, imagining 
Thro' night and day the images and dreams 
Of order — excellence — of beauty and design — 
All is of me ; volume — papyrus rolled 
With coiling lines like burning rings of fire — 
The temple and the statue — and the red 
Limnings engraven upon walls of stone — 
Are mine. Colossi stand resting upon 
My fingers ; wide-spread in hollows of my hands 
Are founded cities, vast and wonderful. 
I am the mind : — no thought goes flying forth, 
Pregnant with virtue of a coming thing. 
But I have sprung its swiftest wings of flight 
And know its journeyings. I am divine — 
Harmonic — and entire. 'T was I — this God — 
That Fate foretold with disempowered soul 
Should taste of Love and Death — for Love must die. 
Sadness falls on my visage as I think — 



6 NAREDIN'S IMPORTUNITY. 

Ere this no Heavenly cycle brought its'pain : 

Deep pondering I was, with brows of weight, 

But only smiled at even excellence. 

In ages since unquiet is my soul ; 

Darker the shadows drop on downward lids 

And I, alone, of godlike powers, am sad. 

Thou art the son of Thoth. Embedded deep 

Within thyself are mental dignities. 

And intellectual stretches of repose. 

Thy human heart distrust, O Naredin, 

Rise on the clouds of Heaven and walk with Gods ! " 

But Naredin, illumined by the eyes 
Of Ranethis, the pure Egyptian maid, 
Disdained all courts of Heaven, and vehement 
Broke the calm accents of his father's speech, 

" What virtue in a God if firmly bound 

To divine excellence — prohibited 

From mortal love and pleasurable ways ? 

With keen enjoyment sharpened upon edge 

Useless — and simply destined to despair ? 

As Gods love, I love — even as thou didst ; 

Desiring more because my love must die : 

Demanding not an endless, divine age, 

Nor deathless Goddess of Osiris' courts, 

But wild with anguish for a human heart 

Beating its fevered pulses against Time ! 

If Ranethis must perish, willingly 

Withdraw the deathless ichor from my blood ; 

When meekly on her eyelids cometh death 

Deliver me into the quiet sleep 

Till Time shall cease — and judge me with the rest." 



NAREDIN'S IMPORTUNITY. y 

With steadfast gaze the sad divinity : — 

" Thou wert unbounden from thy mother's breasts. 

Briefly one hour, enveloped on her heart, 

Her human milk and vigor drawing full 

With infant lips, when my resistless hands 

Lifted my godlike issue into Heaven. 

Ah ! desolate and woful was her face 

When the swift Angel, sent on Thoth's behest. 

Swept with the music of descending wings 

In circles round her. Instinctively she knew 

The Gods were claiming their immortal share : — 

That Thoth's return, revisiting her lips 

Was nevermore, and nevermore the sight 

Of human love gleaming in godlike eyes 

Should lessen night : — knew that her heaven-born 

Should turn to higher skies more blue than hers 

His opening eyes. But knows she not the day 

When rising from the silent courts of Death — 

Whither her footsteps falteringly fell — 

As dread Osiris closes up the years, 

And draws the curtains from unending Day, 

That Thoth — descending from his flashing throne. 

With peals of music ringing into space — 

Shall lead into the farthest, happiest blest 

This sorrowful fulfiller of her fate. 

Thou art unbound ; moving as Gods ; and free ; 

As Gods ascending wide, celestial ways, 

Roaming invisible in realms of earth 

With potence over mortals. Go thou, a^God 

In plenitude ; commissioned in form 

To the full beauty ; regal — inviolate : 

Fulfil thy 'hests in the inferior realms — 



8 NAREDIN'S IMPORTUNITY. 

Lacking alone the power of greatest crowns — 

To overcome the mortal doing good. 

Except the high Osiris other the Gods 

Submissive bow their royal heads to Truth. 

Truth and Osiris are synonymous — 

The Giver and the Law entire of Heaven. 

Who seek to journey down these stretching stairs, 

Parting the clouds of Heaven, must wander forth — 

If those canst carry in thine inmost soul 

Fire from Osiris' throne, imquenchable, 

No shadow in the distant storms of earth 

Shall mar thy steps ; safely the deep abyss 

Shalt thou retravel to these pillared courts 

Resounding music. Go : thy folded wings 

Thoth touches to activity and flight." 



e^<^n($^ 





II.— THE PRAYER OF ALANTHUR. 



r\ THOTH! 

^-^ The spires of Heaven I have not seen — 
Built on the clouds — piercing imperial space — 
Nor glittering ways, nor altars ministrant 

With cloths of sheen 
Girding the holies where thou hid'st thy face. 

II. 

The lamps of sapphire swinging in the light : 

The incense growing from the golden cups ; 

Angels and Spirits darting in delight 

Over the air ; resting afar from flight 

And rushing down from pinnacles and towers 

Before thy throne — 
Of these, O Thoth, I dream — but dream alone. 

III. 



Help me to grasp the outlines of thy form : 
Aid me in dreaming of thy dreadful face : 
9 



lO THE PR A YER OF ALANTHUR. 

O drive my throbbing spirit on the storm 
Of things divine to outskirts of thy grace — 
Filled with th' expanding waves of thy most sacred 
place ! 

IV. 

Father of Thought, O Thoth, 

Thousand the fancies fly 
Splintering on beams of thine unceasing sun 
Throughout the Heavens, and worlds that underlie, 
Bearing thy whirling words, and, one by one. 

Returning to thy throne. 



Lord of the Beautiful ! 

On the ascending stair 
Circling the walls of Heaven, my feet are fast : 
Dismiss thy messenger with golden keys ; 
Throw wide the roadways of unending trees 
Filled with the fruits for sorrow and disease ; 

That I may live — 
Returning downwards build a counterpart 
Of that tall fane in Heaven where. Lord, thou art ! 



VI. 



Roll up the veil hung from thy ramparts down 
Steady mine eyes : attune my listening ears : 
Unbind the horror of thy steadfast frown 
And let thy milder glories run, with tears, 
Over the face of him who sees and hears 
The march and music of immortal years ! 



THE PRA YER OF ALANTHUR. 1 1 

VII. 

Upward I look — smite not mine eyeballs dim : 
Onward I strive — hew thou the blocks of stone : 
Be Thoth the Temple's workman : unto him 
The quarries open — I myself disown 
Save as the anxious ministrant of his imperial 
throne. 

VIII. 

Down from the heated glories of thy home 
Strike thy quick fancies, quivering with fire, 

To distant earth ; 

On her cold breast 
Congeal the pinnacle and stretching spire 
With gilded point ablaze — last from thy fingers 
thrown. 



IX. 



Send me the thread of Life 

Wound lasting to the day 

The chisel shall release its strife, 

And my quick hand, with eager knife, 

No longer cut the clay : 

Till Thoth shall pass the open doors. 

In darkness pace resounding floors, 

Through crypt and cavern and defile — 

Windings of all the Builder s wile — 

To find his secret place : 

Till Thoth, in silence of the night. 

Whisper to me : — 
" Thy work, O human Soul, is right ! " 



1 2 THE PRA YER OF ALANTHUR. 



Then Thoth, Feeder of Thought, my Lord, 

Accept my life, grant me reward : 

Grant me to breathe thy pure incense, 

To hear the laws thy lips dispense : 

Grant me to know the Beautiful — 

To hold the principle entire 

Wherein is hid creative fire : 

Grant me to know the countenance 

Of fellow-worker at a glance : 

Grant me, O Father, pinions strong. 

Bearing my fearless soul along 

On thy behests to farthest sea. 

Or shore of Heaven's immensity — 

Only that I return to thee ! 




Ill— RANETHIS AND NAREDIN. 



ORANETHIS ! O Ranethis ! I feel thy heart- 
strings throb. 
The very voices of thy soul cry : — Naredin is God ! 

" The waters of the windless Nile run with a swifter 

flight 
Beneath the banks where Naredin is leading thee 

to-night : 

'* The heavens are dark, the flashing stars near one 

another burn, 
The moon is deep below the sea and cannot back 

return. 

" The temples and the city gates are shut and far 

from view, 
Immortal feet are guiding thee thy mortal windings 

through. 

^' O Ranethis ! O Ranethis ! fire from the throne 

of God 
Is burning fierce about thy feet crossing Egyptian 

sod : 

13 



14 RANETHIS AND NAREDIN. 

" A passion from Osiris' heart is flaming in my 

breast, 
A more than mortal, fervid love is on my lips com- 

prest : 

" Power to gain the blazing heights is folded on my 

wings : 
Filling my soul are chanted songs the highest angel 

sings : 

" The eyes that love thee, and look doAvn upon 

thine eyes to-night, 
With fearless openness receive rays of celestial 

light. 

" And darest thou linger — darest thou deny — un- 
certain darest thou wait 

With chained feet along the road closed by the 
glorious gate ? 

" The sunlike ways are high and dread — on stretch- 
ing arches tall — 

O come with me, oft have I sped along that glitter- 
ing wall ! 

^* Rest in my arms ; I '11 bear thee on ; locked in a 

God's embrace 
Thou shalt with Spirits be in Heaven, and speak 

them face to face. 

'* Dread not the deep abyss to cross, nor plunging 

from the side 
Of this slow world into the sea of swift ethereal 

tide : — 



RANETHIS AND N A RE DIN. I 5 

" Dread not the banks of clouds that lie like ram- 
parts in the sky, 

Thro' them the blessed wings of Heaven like swift- 
est lightnings fly. 

'* O Ranethis ! O Ranethis ! dread not this love of 

mine, 
The storm that rages in my heart no terror brings 

for thine. 

" A single leap into the sea — from off the brink a 

bound — 
Thy feet shall touch the other shore of sweet, ce: 

lestial ground. 

" Thro' tireless ways of hill and vale shall lie our 
roadways there ; 

A tireless crimson on the sky comes with the con- 
stant air. 

" The foam forever on the fall — forever sings the 

bird- 
Forever are the pointed leaves with changing per- 
fumes stirred : 

" Forever down the golden ways angelic music 

goes, 
With anthems floating on the air no earth-wind 

ever knows. 

" Forever joy — eternal smiles : there guiltless of a 

tear 
The eyes of the immortal hosts are glorified and 

clear. 



1 6 RANETHIS AND NAREDIN. 

" Gain thou the joy : know me a God : Osiris gives 

the cup : 
The pinions of my wings unfold to bear thy bosom 

up. 

" Drink of my lips : give me thine arms : throw wide 

the crystal door, 
Flooding thy soul with quivering joys it could not 

know before. 

" Ranethis ! O Ranethis ! why walkest in delay ? 
My heart is bursting for the sun of that celestial 
day ! 

'* Mine ears are open for the blast of dread Osiris' 

tone — 
Mine eyes are smitten for the sight of Isis on her 

throne ! 

" I am descended for thyself ; my homeward flying 
feet 

Spring from the edges of the world the golden shoes 
to meet ! 

" A word — a motion — but a touch on mine of thy 
sweet lips — 

A clasp upon thine open breast while the honey- 
binder sips — 

" To hold me while the instant dawn flings his first 

upward ray — 
O Ranethis ! O Ranethis ! why walkest in delay ? " 




IV. AND v.— ALANTHUR'S LOVE AND THE 
TEMPLE. 



T TPON the dusky-bosomed Nile 
^ Broad moonbeams flashing fell ; 
With idle oar grinding on shore, 

Upon a slumbrous swell, 
Locked to the weight of iron keep, 
The little boats lay fast asleep. 



II. 

Chained to the foot of stony stair, 
Thousand the shallops lie : 

Throughout the day in thick array 
Their wings went flitting by : 

Now folded on the ebon breast 

Of the dark Nile they go to rest. 

III. 

Hushed is the gurgle of the wave 

Smitten by snowy breast, 
As, plumes outspread, in ardor brave, 
17 



1 8 ALANTHUR'S LOVE 

Each goes its anxious quest : 
Quiet and still, dreaming and pure, 
Their weary wings no more endure. 



IV. 



Ah ! brief are moments of their sleep, 

An upward wheeling sun 
In laughter dries their dewy eyes 

And speeds them, one by one ; 
Fast from the fingers of the day 
Fly the swift oars and sails away. 

V. 

But now the sun is far away. 

The moon is wheeling high ; 
Thro' broad-leafed trees a summer's breeze 

Answers the owlet's cry — 
Answers his dread and dreariest wail 
With new-blown murmurs on the gale. 

VI. 

The odors and the winds of night 
Sweep thro' the Temple doors ; 

Up arch and wall, by pillars tall. 
And over roofless floors 

Glimmering the light and darkness go, 

And breezes moist with perfumes blow. 

VII. 

Osiris, standing on the broad 
Far-spreading Temple stair, 



AND THE TEMPLE. 1 9 

Rears to the open heart of Heaven 

His form, expanding there : 
Finished and true he stands alone 
Amid the scattered heaps of stone. 

VIII. 

Alone, and guarding the wide way 

Paved for the sounding tread 
Of thousands who shall worship Thoth, 

And fall before the dread 
Swift censure of his changeless eye — 
Piercing all mortal armory. 

IX. 

Unfinished is Thoth's tall home ; 

On every beam of light 
A thousand restless chisels fly 

From thousand hands of might : 
Ten thousand hearts groan in the fray 
That builds the Temple's height a day. 



When Evening steals with slumbrous step 

On the broad path of Day, 
Slowly the workman takes his hand 

From the unfinished clay : 
Harshly the mills of toil run slow — 
Outward the toilers thronging go. 

XI. 

But Thoth is bounteous to the land, 
Egyptian voices ring 



20 ALANTHUR'S LOVE 

With psalms and praises to the God — 

Heaven's intellectual king : 
Egyptian eyes glow with delight 
When Thoth bends low to Egypt's sight. 

XII. 

Thoth is the armor of their kings — 
Thoth is the poet's power — 

Thoth breathes on music's silver strings 
Floating in darksome hour ; — 

Thoth spreads his colors on the wall — 

Thoth is the painter — Thoth is all ! 

XIII. 

So the pale Builder threading on, 
'Mid scattered heaps of stone, 

Unlocks the workshop where lie still 
And for his eyes alone, 

Thoth, — resting in his awful pride — 

And a light shaft thrown by his side. 

XIV. 

Sometimes his labor is delight — 

He has a kingly will : 
Sometimes his useless hands all night 

Lie impotent and still : 
O paler then is his pale brow. 
And slower still his footfalls go. 

XV. 

To-night divinely moves his skill 
Working the plastic clay ; 



AND THE TEMPLE. 21 

Godlike the lines and features grow 

In dreadfulest array : 
The face of Thoth grows into sight 
As the slow moon moves upon night. 

XVI. 

Thoth looks Alanthur in his eyes — 

Trembles his human heart : — 
" Grow into life, my God, but not 

So fearful as thou art ! 
O hide thy wonder, hide even from me 
The breadth of thine eternity ! 

XVII. 

" O draw me not beyond the shore 

To the unfathomed sea : 
Mine eyes are weak and cannot stretch 

O'er its immensity : 
Mine are no heavenly wings to glide 
O'er the vast bosom of that tide ! 

XVIII. 

*' My sinews shrivel at thy touch, 

Stay thy descending hand ; 
O close the parting of thy lips — 

No ears may understand. 
Or live, and hear thine awful tongue 
With wisdom from the ages wrung ! 

XIX. 

" Draw not the breath of life, nor be 
Dilated and entire ; 



22 ALANTHUR'S LOVE 

O God ! keep back from this cold heart 

Thy burning, Heavenly fire ! 
If thou shouldst move then must I spring 
Down the abyss — a perished thing ! 

XX. 

" Calm me, O God : release my soul 
Approaching thee too near : 

Gently replace my feet on earth, 
And still the throbbing fear 

Running with horror thro' my blood 

Beholding thee in solitude ! 

XXI. 

" I veil thy face : no more to-night 

Dare I, infatuate, brook 
Th' expectant murmur of thy lips, 

Nor brave thy cloudless look : 
No more I tremble — gaze no more — 
Softly I draw the covering o'er. 

XXII. 

" O Ranethis ! for thee I burn — 

Burn for thy dewy bliss. 
Cooling my parching lips upon 

The Shaft of Ranethis ! 
O Shaft, mine arms encircle thee, 
Pressing thy bosom fearlessly ! 

XXIII. 

" Light of my life, spring into air \ 
Let thine uprising grace 



AND THE TEMPLE. 23 

Point all the Temple's worshippers 

To Thoth's exalted face : 
Point upward thro' the loftiest dome — 
Still upward point to Thoth's far home. 

XXIV. 

■*' Grow from the floors of earth upright, 

Sunning thy spire in Heaven, 
Gilded all o'er with smiles and light 

By angels' faces given : 
To wanderers on the roaring tide 
Be thou the Pillar — thou the Guide. 

XXV. 

^' With thee my longings upward go ; 

Osiris bids me raise 
Mine eyelids for the falling light 

Of his benignant rays : 
With thee I struggle to attain 
The level of that far-spread plain. 

XXVI. 

" With thee I love — with thee I grow ; 

O Ranethis with thee 
Walking the earth my footsteps wind 

Towards Heaven's boundary : — 
Thine be the kiss to seal mine eyes 
Closing to ope in yonder skies ! " 




VI.— THE FAITH OF RANETHIS. 



*' OOME one is leading me, my love, beside a 

^ flowing stream ; 
Flashing within its shifting depths darts many a 
golden beam. 

" Many a golden cloud scuds by, and many a silver 
star 

Hangs on the utmost edges, from the burning sun- 
light far. 

" The wings of Angels skimming pass, from happy 

regions come, 
Marking the plunges of their flight with hasty 

streaks of foam. 

*' Sweet sloping pathways passing fields of azure 

wind and turn. 
Running so deep into the tide mine eyes cannot 

discern. 

" The airy summits of the hills they overtop and 



24 



THE FAITH OF RANETHIS. 2$ 

I lose them in the rippling winds that o'er the waters 
blow. 

*' Ah, seemeth me a winsome wind that Music's 

breath did fill, 
Upriseth from the distant top of every happy hill : 

*' It seemeth me an Angel floats i' the tide below my 

feet, 
Waiting to guide my plunging steps into those 

meadows sweet. 

" Waiting with wings to bear me on, far up the hill- 
side way. 
Beyond the tops I cannot see, into unending day : — 

" Beyond the tops, on morning winds, into the glit- 
tering sky 

Furnished with all its crystal lights in burning pan- 
oply. 

'* It seemeth me all beckon me, that every smiling 
Drinks of the waters I, distrusting, dare not sip : — 

" That every Spirit in his flight lingers awhile for 
me, 

Nearing the brink where I do stand in long uncer- 
tainty. 

" Ah love, I know mine eyes look down ; truly the 

waters cold 
Within their hollow caverns not a single star-beam 

hold. 



26 THE FAITH OF RANETHIS. 

" No meadow with its blossoms sweet, no hills where 

I would rove — 
Look up, O eyes, their springing tops pierce the 

blue fields above. 

** Their shadows sink into the sea, the hills are high 

and pure. 
Clear in the heat of Heaven's sun their steadfast 

tops endure. 

" There would I view them, nevermore below the 

glittering sea 
Shall lie these visions of delight spread in their 

mockery. 

" O Naredin ! O Naredin ? I saw thee in the sea, 
Why drop'st thou not upon the earth from Heaven's 
boundary ? 

" There lie the fields and all the ways wide open to 

my feet. — 
Thou art not with the winged ones speeding my 

steps to meet. 

" These were the ways thou promised — my feet are 

fleeting fast. 
Already countless leagues between are oversped 

and past — 

" Already echo dies and song comes from the Liv- 
ing Spring — 

Already to the open gates with tireless hands I 
cling. 



THE FAITH OF H AN E THIS. 27 

" O Naredin ! O Naredin ! I cannot pierce the sea 
Which sweeps below the level earth with fierce in- 
tensity : 

'' I saw the last cleaving the wave with upward 

springing stride, 
Wilt thou within its hollow depths for evermore 

abide ? 

" Alanthur rears the Temple dome — I pace the 

peaceful street 
About the ever-open gates, yearning his eyes to 

meet." 





VII.— NAREDIN'S REVENGE. 



THREADING return to Heaven did Naredin 
-*-^ Rise from the tide and watch the glittering 

trail 
Of Ranethis' sweet soul ascending swift. 
Filled with an anguish to the Heavens unknown — 
Anguish of loss unalterable and full — 
Loss of the prize, loss of himself, and gains 
Meted and waiting to a rival's cause — 
Failure for him, another's victory. 
Bred desperate instruction in his mind. 
Revolving which, with wings incredible, 
Flying o'er dawnless tracks of desert wild. 
Before the sun passing by leagues of sea. 
Surpassing forests rank with beasts and gloom, 
Far o'er the face of earth to Asian mount 
His heated pinions cleaved incessant way. 
Unknown and strange, e'en to his venturous wing, 
Rose its recesses clad with pines and snow. 
Tireless surmounting spar and broken ridge, 
Upward by cave, recess, and frozen gorge, 
Past rock, o'er downfall hanging imminent, 
Abreast the sliding course of sun-loosed snoAv, 
28 



NAREDIN'S REVENGE. 29 

And rifted glacier groaning in distress, 

With speed he went. Far, far, o'er kindred peaks 

He chose the highest. With angered cheeks un- 

cooled 
Within a whitest hollow of the snow 
Rested his feet, standing on topmost ridge. 
The icy air in early gray of morn 
He knew not, nor revolving saw the Sun 
Labor with frozen breath the high ascent. 
Of Ranethis, safe in the sacred courts. 
Repassing ways his feet were used to tread, 
Filled with the songs of Heaven and dazzling 

sights. 
Contented, calm, expectant, innocent, — 
Of Ranethis, waiting increased rewards, — 
The coming of Alanthur and the shouts 
Resounding Heaven upon the Temple's end, — 
Of these he mused consulting : consulting knew 
The hinges of th' accustomed gates would swing 
Still to his touch — returning penitent. 
But Ranethis was past. Could Heaven combine 
For him oblivion and her shining eyes ? 
The Spirit of the Builder soaring close 
On Aving of privilege to sacred thrones. 
Brushing with fearless tips effulgent robes 
Draping the closures of eternal seats, — 
Watching the Godhead and interpreting, — 
Could this be Heaven as Heaven it was to him ? 
The day he knew not ; nor the crystal sky 
Unsullied with the semblance of a cloud. 
He knew not eve — the burning brands of Day 
Scattered and falling : he knew not Time until 
Midnight with dewy fingers silent turned 



30 N A RED IN 'S REVENGE. 

The hours upward — pointing the coming morn. 
Then desperate, dropping with arrowy speed, 
Glancing the lesser peaks of ice and snow, 
Suddenly plunging abysms down, across 
The clouded seas, deserts in starlight stretched. 
Returning to the solemn Nile he flew. 
Thence to the Temple. Entering in he stood 
Potent within its solitude and space. 
He passed Osiris, but beneath the dome 
Rearing majestic rose the Awful Thoth, 
Him also, with his eyes of ample ken, 
His lips of silence, and benignant hands, 
He turned and passed. On to the inmost court 
In circuit cut, supported by a Shaft 
Mid-centre set and chased with costly lines. 
Running the scrolls Osiris' proverbs spake : 
The gist of goodness and eternal laws. 
Wisdom divine, and more than wisdom's good, 
Forgetfulness, forgiveness, bounteous gifts. 
Patience and courage, with their long rewards ; 
These interwrit ran round a central scroll. 
Superbly chased, inlaid with agate gems. 
Bearing thereon — The Shaft of Ranethis. 
With powerful hands fiercely the Shaft he shook : 
Rage and Revenge in horrible essay 
Gripped madly on the quivering, slender stem. 
Shivered the brittle jewels interlaid. 
And scattered wide the broken lines of truth. 
Flashing thro' darkness fell the sparkling stones. 
Ringing the courts resounded with their fall 
And with the echoes of Thoth's awful voice : — 
" Flee thou — flee far : — the wings of Heaven un- 
fold : 



NAREDIN'S REVENGE. 



31 



Spirits in number on the ramparts stand 
Waiting command. O'er earth and sea, thro' air 
Innumerable circuits interlace 
Thy flying steps : — inevitable end — 
Osiris holds his Judgment on his lips." 





VIII.— THE JUDGMENT OF OSIRIS. 



T^HERE was a stir in Heaven. Bright messengers 
* Flashed over buttresses of fiery clouds, 
Adown the ways and thro' the roads of space. 
Commotion sounded in the glittering hosts, 
For Omset, crying from the Throne of Thrones, 
Dispatched his brothers with their chosen bands, 
Drawn from the swiftest pinions of the air. 
Thro' the wide world — searching for Naredin. 
Caverns and caves, broken in hills unknown, 
Ravines and peaks, homes of the midnight beasts, 
Forests of heat and shores of icy cold. 
Resounded with the whistling of their wings. 
Four days and nights the ears of shrinking men 
Were startled with their clamors on the blasts ; 
The warning of their voices echoing 
Osiris' quest — the face of Naredin — 
With Judgment waiting in the courts of Heaven. 
So traversing with ceaseless lines of flight 
Regions outspread in all confines and ways. 
Him, Naredin, in ultimate essay. 
Striving the thickest depths of tropic shade, 
32 



THE JUDGMENT OF OSIRIS. 33 

Wearied they saw, and seized. Sullen and still 
His wings they chained, and bore him thro' the 

stars. 
Then Omset, crying from his corner seat : — 
" My Brothers, well ! The Jackal and the Hawk, 
Instinct with swiftness from Osiris' self, 
Have swept the earth and sped the plains of air. 
Behold him bound — waiting Justice and Law." 
Then the fourth Brother, from his place of power,. 
Premonitory sounding on his trump. 
Cried to the hosts, ingathering at the call : 
" Angels and Spirits, come ! Osiris speaks. 
Delivering the mandates of his will 
Upon a Spirit fallen. O'er Naredin 
The shadow of tall Justice steals along, 
Darkening the lights of Heaven. No Angel knows. 
The sentence writ : hidden in Omset's hand 
Are folded tight Osiris' words of fire — 
O gather from the farthest plains and seas ! " 
Therewith the clouds of Heaven grew radiant 
With flashing wings and steps of spirit feet. 
The eyes of Angels glittered on the ways. 
And Angels' voices hummed like silver strings. 
For twenty hours incoming flew the hosts 
From farthest fringes of beatic space. 
In companies they dropped, and singly some. 
Stronger of pinion, headed lines of flight — 
Directing courses. From every spot blessed by 
Osiris' benizens his Angels flew. 
Deserted then were shores of limpid seas, 
The summer banks of rivers, and the groves 
Of blossoms full and sweet with fragrant vines — 
Deserted all. Crowding on walls immense, 



34 THE JUDGMENT OF OSIRIS. 

Filling the battlements, standing on spires, 

Grouped on the steps extending far below 

His high, imperial Throne, the Angels stood. 

Sudden the clouds about the throne disparted, 

For one brief sight superior Spirits dared 

Withstand Osiris in majestic pomp, 

Then they, and lesser Angels, bowing low. 

His dreadful voice brake on the ears of Heaven : 

" Ye Souls and Spirits ; Ye Powers of Heaven ; 

and Ye 
Intelligencies far inferior, set 
In daily walks far from the Throne of God — 
Open your souls to Judgment. Sin is in Heaven : — 
The offspring of a Deity hath sought 
To bar the avenues of growing good : 
Hath smitten deep a mortal striving up — 
Searching the Godhead's worship — building high — 
Scanning the stars as essences of light 
Sped from my hands and rolling in my sight. 
Osiris, I, have looked into his paths. — 
Forty and two, the Judges of my Courts, 
Prostrate repeat this verdict of my laws — 
O Spirit, cry the sentence writ and sealed ! " 
In mercy rolled the clouds around his face, 
His divine accents dying out redeemed 
Many a soul from fear unutterable. 
Omset resounding on his trumpet blew 
A single blast, preluding the decree. 
And spake : " One of Osiris' Genii, I, 
Omset, alone of winged Angels may 
Deciphering cry his words of changing flame," — 
Therewith the scroll he loosed and Heaven light- 
ened : — 



THE JUDGMENT OF OSIRIS. 35 

" Judgment on Naredin, descended quick 

From the embraces of Divinity — 

Divinity of Good — to Evil fallen ! 

Judgment on Naredin, familiar grown 

With all the ways of Heaven, who shut the gates, 

Closing the walks, and pointed distant paths 

Lit by reflections of its brazen walls ! 

Judgment on Naredin, an heir of God, 

Spoiling defenceless coffers, strewing wide 

His riches, stored by labor and design : — 

Atmon, Father of ShadoAvs and of Night, 

Throws wide the sable curtains of his home 

And cleaves the rolling blackness for thy feet. 

Thine eyelids hang on eyes dismayed in Heaven, 

Lo, in the realm of vapors indistinct, 

No burning suns circuitous contend 

With streams of darting brightness, and not there 

Endless the glory. Cloudy, obscure, and still 

Are solitary walks where thou shalt muse, 

Disturbing misty foliage with thy wings, 

Moving alone, safe from the sights of Heaven, 

Till Heaven shall grow over all shores and seas, 

And Heavenly eyes shall pierce the darkest ways. 

Shalt thou redeem some divine virtue lost ? 

For the Last Judgment of Earth's final day 

Omset, my Angel, shall unopened keep 

This inner scroll, bound with a ring of fire. 

The seeds of Heaven are blown on various winds : 

Lo, in the dripping paths of Atmon's ways 

Are spots of springing green, waiting the day — 

Sweet germs are sown with breath of penitence." — 

While yet he spake re-echoing rang a cry 

From those upgathered on the entering gates 



36 THE JUDGMENT OE OSIRIS. 

In distance set. Swiftly a messenger 

Spake the fourth Brother, who immediate took 

His brazen trump and rang a clarion out — 

" Alanthur lives in Heaven ! " Then Naredin 

Brake from his guards, the Jackal and the Hawk, 

Brothers of Omset, Genii to the King 

Osiris, Lord of Heaven, and Workers of 

His words — he brake from these, fleet-footed fled 

Thro' crowds and streets. None hindering he 

plunged, 
With chained wings, embosomed in the clouds 
Rolling their way to Atmon's darksome realms. 

Kem, the kind God, dipping his golden pen. 
Wrote in his endless Book, with letters joined, 
Alanthur first — followed by Ranethis. 





THE BALLAD OF SIR RAYMOND. 



O IR RAYMOND rides afield to-day, 

^ His charger is in stall, 

Sir Raymond rides his dapple gray. 

He goeth not at all 
With helm, or sword, or lance, or shield 
Sir Raymond simply rides afield. 

He hath not even bugle horn, 

Nor falcon at his hand. 
And tho' 't is but the early morn 

There followeth no band 
Of baying hounds and hunting men ; 
Alone he enters Tethan Glen. 

Upon his cap a scarlet plume 

Brushes the clinging dew ; 
Upon his cheeks the blood-red bloom 

Of vigor hath its hue ; 
Back from his shoulders, folded wide. 
His velvet cloak is thrown aside. 

And further into Tethan's shade 
His dapple paces on, 
37 



38 THE BALLAD OF SIR RA YMOND. 

And crosses brook, and travels glade, 

And winds the trees among ; 
Sir Raymond sees the sweet wild-rose, 
And thus he singeth as he goes : 

" O wild-, wild-rose, a moment yet 
Your cheek is with the dew-drop wet ; 
Then as it goes in anger by 
The hot wind drinks your dew-drop dry, 
And you, wild-rose, will die. 

" O listen not, wild-rose, to me, 
The ring-dove sits on yonder tree, 
And he will sing when day is high 
A song to moisten your cold eye ; 

O weep and do not die, 

O sad, wild-rose, not die." 



Maid Evelyn sitteth with the sun 

For early company, 
She mindeth not the window-stone 

Is cold, and carelessly 
She leans her white arms on the gray 
Old wall, and looketh far away. 

She looketh into Tethan Glen, 

'T is full a league away. 
Yet oftentimes did Evelyn ken 

Sir Raymond's dapple gray 
Rest by the ancient sycamore 
For speed across the level moor. 



THE BALLAD OF SLR RA YMOND. 39 

To-day she watcheth wearily, 

As only lovers may : — 
" Mischance, mischance, fly hastily 

From Raymond's lord away ; 
Thou, Lady Ellen, quiet keep. 
When thou shalt wake then I shall weep. 

" O soft, O softly summer rain 

Comes blowing in the glen. 
And sweetly comes his kiss again 

Unto Maid Evelyn ; 
A breeze that rises from the rose 

Is his sweet voice to me. 
But O how cold the sunlight grows 

When he goes o'er the lea ! 

" I sit and listen to my heart, 
It singeth sad and low, 

well I see the blood-red dart 
Into my bosom go ; 

Each day he cometh not to me 

An arrow leaves the string, 
My breast is bleeding terribly, 

O heart, why strive to sing ! 

" The wound is wide, and none but he 
Can backward draw the dart, — 

1 see him come across the lea. 

Stand still, my bleeding heart ! 
Stand still ! stand still ! my very blood 

Is flowing from my side, — 
Bear Raymond onward, precious flood, 

Whatever else betide ! " 



40 THE BALLAD OF SLR RA YMOND. 

III. 

The livelong day the ring-dove kept 

His perch upon the tree, 
And all the day the wild-rose wept 

At his sad melody : — 
The livelong day Lord Raymond stayed 
Beside the eager, blushing maid. 

Throughout the day the porter old 
Look'd o'er the level plain ; 

And well he watched lest Hugh the Bold, 
Returning with his train. 

Might find the dapple in his stall, 

And Raymond's lord within his wall. 

True love not heedeth bolt nor bar, 

But sad 't is ever so, 
True love and fate do constant war, 

And ne'er together go ; 
What little moments lovers smile 
To the long days between the while. 

Red in the west the sunlight grew. 
The wind came o'er the moor ; 

Maid Evelyn's cheek took paler hue, 
His steed stood by the door : — 

Go ye who never knew the smart 

Of tearing back a heart from heart, — 

Go ye, I say, and strive to tell. 

What felt the bitter maid. 
How his sad heart did bursting swell, 

And how he still delayed : 



THE BALLAD OF SIR RA YMOND. 4 1 

Go ye, I know not words nor phrase — 
Such anguish lives not in my lays. 

He hies, he hies him o'er the moor, — 

Watcheth Maid Evelyn, 
She sees him pass the sycamore 

And enter Tethan Glen : — 
O well Sir Hugh holds him the chase, 
Now Raymond slacken up thy pace. 

Go, maiden, to thy chamber high, 

Thy love is safely gone, 
Look out upon the dying sky 

And let thy lips make moan 
For the long days till he again 
Shall ride the slope from out the^glen, 

IV. 

And Lady Ellen, didst thou trust 

Thy heart would sweeter be. 
That his should pour upon the dust 

The blood drops not for thee ? 
And was he better on his bier — 
Which likest thou, thy rage or fear ? 

Haggard she sits and cannot die — 

Maid Evelyn died the day 
She heard the porter's sudden cry 

Of Raymond's murderous fray ; 
But Lady Ellen fears the dead 
And dares not follow where she sped. 



O the long days the dove has flown 
His perch upon the tree. 



42 



THE BALLAD OF SIR RAYMOND. 



And many winter Avinds have blown 

The wild-rose bitterly ; 
And summer comes, but never goes 
His dapple pacing by the rose. 

The dove flies back and waits for him, 

Thinking he ever loves ; 
From morn he waits till daylight dim, 

Lord Raymond never comes — 
O dove depart, and roses fall. 
We love and love, and that is all. 





MY SOUL'S HOLIDAY. 



ONE morning my soul from its slumber sprang,. 
Its wings were spread, such laughter rang 
From its lips aloud as seemed to me 
More light than ever a laugh could be. 
My soul, with upraised finger-tip 
Set smilingly upon its lip, 
Bade me to follow, and said in my ear ; — 
" Let 's leave your dull, dead body here ; 
Your Heart is sad — we '11 go without, 
Sad Heart won't work what we 're about, 
For once you and your Soul shall be 
In the sweet air of morning free." 
'T was hard for me to drop my chain. 
So I looked at my dead, cold face again. 
" Don't tarry, even should your body die 
'T were better far — then you and I 
Should be as we used to be before 
Your Heart became so sad and sore. 
Don't you remember when we were young 
And deftly from our dreaming sprung ? 
Your old dead Heart 's to blame for this ; 
But never mind — this morning's bliss 
I bought from Fate with tears and sighs, 
43 



44 MY sours HOLIDAY. 

Now let us enjoy our sudden prize." 

With both my hands within her own 

She sped along a sea-girt zone : — 

" I hate the earth, always to me 

Is fresh and sweet the deep-waved Sea. 

Come down with me ! On that pure strand 

We '11 build a palace such as land 

And the loose confines of the air 

Did never hold or could compare. 

I love the Sea, because 't is said 

When your old Heart is really dead 

We two must journey thro' the sky : — 

That 's well enough for by and by. 

To-day I choose the sun-lit Sea 

With countless cares for you and me." 

Adown we dived — the waters sweet 

Pressed round our foreheads and our feet ; 

Ten thousand looks of love divine 

From twice ten thousand eyes did shine \ 

The water-nymphs from every shore 

Came plunging in harmonious roar 

To greet a Diver with his Soul — 

Freed from a heavy Heart's control. 

Gems from the depths of every sea 

Brought they unto my Soul and me. — 

'' Take these from us, most willingly 

Behold the tribute of the Sea 

To thy sweet Soul who trusts to-day 

The joys she wrung from Fate away 

Unto our hollow depths : we '11 rear 

From swift-cut waves and billows clear 

Cave after cave and winding ways 

Fit for an Ocean Ruler's praise : — 



MV SOUL'S HOLIDAY. 45 

Name unto us thy wildest needs 

And we will make thy wishes deeds ! " 

Then my loved Soul withheld my speech, 

And traced both arms their widest reach ! — 

" Build in this place a Palace fair 

Beyond what earth, beyond what air 

Did hold or ever could compare. 

Build stairs of gem — and floors of foam — 

All riches of your Ocean home 

Unlock and bring, unsparingly 

Build for my Love, and build for me." 

Like rays of light the sea-nymphs flew, 

Darting the paths and windings thro' ; 

Swifter than clouds are piled in air 

Rose the clear walls and glittering stair ; 

Blocks of Ocean-depths cut thro' 

And piled atop — blue after blue ; 

Pillars of green, couches of foam. 

Gardens of sea-weed where to roam ; 

Windows of light and grots of shell 

The white-armed nymphs arranged well — 

While sat my sweet-eyed Soul and I 

Watching the fairy work go by. 

She clapped her hands : — " O haste away^ 

You know I only have to-day ; 

O for a night and its sweet sleep 

Within that fairy Palace-keep ! " 

Could nymphs go faster ? If before 

They raised a stair and placed a floor 

With speed of angels, now they flew 

Like angels' wishes seaways thro' ! 

The Palace halls were filled with foam 

Flying from wave and dashing stone ; 



46 3/V SOUL'S HOLIDAY. 

Gems fell from the walls and towers of light 

Like meteors on a summer's night ; 

The air was laden with sweet breath 

Of working maids — all underneath 

Was filled with bits of gem and spray 

Piled in confusion's wildest way. 

Then came a chorus and a shout 

As the wild workers hurried out. 

'T was finished. We pushed and passed the doors, 

And oped the blinds and paced the floors, 

Ran up the stairs, viewed from the towers 

Hedges of gems and fields of flowers — 

While every beauty there was ours ! 

Something we missed from the sweet scene, 

Missed as we looked the fields between — 

Where were the sea-nymphs ? They had fled ! 

Adown the stairs or overhead, 

Within the halls, in winding way 

No sea-nymph parted the cool spray. 

When my Soul saw we were alone 

Her joy fell to an undertone : — 

" This Palace is too wild for me, 

I fear the great waves of the sea, 

These stairs of foam roar in my ears, 

The very gems seem like my tears ! 

The gates of evening are ajar 

And we have wandered. Love, too far ! " 

I leapt ! — My longing for my Heart 

Could scarcely tear the waves apart ; 

To think that I was fighting here 

And my Heart dead upon its bier ! 

" O Heart ! dead Heart ! If e'er again 

I see the sorrow of thy mien, 



MY SOUL'S HO LIZ) A } '. 



47 



Kiss thy sad face, and hear thy tone, 
Call all thy blood-red throbs mine own, 
Clasp thee again within my breast — 
There shall thy sins and sorrows rest ! " 
I strove with might : the wild spray flew. 
Monsters and demons charged the blue ; 
My Soul and I in terror fled ; 
Madly I strove to reach the dead, 
And clove the waters overhead. 



Ah, the sweet smile that my old Heart 
Gave as it wakened with a start — 
With that sweet smile upon its face 
The old Heart crept into its place ! 




BALDRIC AND LISSOY. 



T N the king's hall his lords were banqueting. 
^ Good wine was poured, free laughter echoed ; and 
Many a jest fell from wide-opened mouths — 
Chiefly on Baldric. Coarsely the king's son, 
Prince Malcolm, cried the lack of decent faith 
And courteous knighthood in a hostage flown, 
While the rough lords, who erst had prized the 

Prince 
Come hostage to them, for his feats of arms, 
His supple limbs, his visage shining far 
With sweetness and a quenchless light of truth. 
Broke into maledictions, roughly smote 
Each other on the forehead, and cried out 
That jades and cowards did o'erdo the wise. 
" But yesterday " — spake out a brawny knight. 
Gripping a beaker of enormous girth. 
Gulping betimes and speaking, — " but yesterday 
The hireling did outvie my selfsame skill 
In breaking a wild mare ; so tamed and sprang 
Upon the startled creature that she paced 
Affrighted thro' the gate, and gently back." 
Another chiming in : ** The day before 
48 



BALDRIC AND LIS SOY. 49 

He seized the burdens my two henchmen bare, 
A half-grown heifer each, and, with light laugh. 
Shoulders erect, bore them to basting." — So 
One and another spread the tales of strength 
In peak and prowess by the truant Prince, 
Until — inflamed to hear our enemy 
Approved, even with oaths, for misused skill — 
Prince Malcolm cried again : " My lords, what time 
Did Baldric dwell among us hostage-sent 
The arm of thy king's son was paralyzed. 
Ofttime with taunting face the wild-bred Prince 
O'erdid me in the field and wide-spread plain — 
Tricks of his boyhood, harbored on the rocks, 
Nurtured and sheltered down beast-ridden hills, 
And drawing sustenance from hollow wilds. 
Know ye that with the spear and wheeling sword, 
Swiftly descending, brook I betters none. 
Hear ye, my lords : Since Baldric passed his truce 
And the security my father gives 
To such as hostage are from vanquished wars, 
I, Prince, proclaim my right of challenger 
Should e're his flying feet come backward here 
To eyes that scorn him and the heart that hates ! " 
Whereat the lords roared loud approval and 
Metantur smiled. He smiled, the king, but yet 
His heart was sad. Two years the savage Prince 
Passed Malcolm and Metantur's bearded lords 
For strength and skill — whereat the grave old king 
Warmed with remembrance of his bygone days — 
Thinking, too, Lissoy should wed with him : 
So when he fled Metantur's heart was heavy — 
Tho' half he believed Prince Malcolm's hardy 
words. 



50 BALDRIC AND LISSOY. 

Now Lissoy was a Witch, tho' none knew it, 
Save only Hondu, the gray mute. Hecla's, 
Her mother's, Books of Cabal taught such power, 
And fearful insight into mystic lore, 
That Lissoy compassed all things. Hondu brought 
In secret the same Books at her twelfth year, 
And Lissoy, with a foretaste of her art. 
Contained the babbling of a woman's tongue, 
And pondered deeply. Many the magic night 
And days of smoke and incense passed she through. 
She reared an Island in a near-by Lake 
To dwell therein. Hondu was there, and when 
The skiffs of pleasure-parties cruised the Lake, 
And ran athwart to the invisble shores, 
While courtly dames and rowers cried in fright 
For sunken rocks, wrapped in a cloud of air 
Their Princess Lissoy smiled with Witch's scorn.- 
This Shade, compassed in air, was Lissoy's self : 
Another self she made and placed at Court, 
And thro' this self saw Baldric. His beauty smote 
Her heart of hearts, so that she left the Isle, 
And, dwelling in the Palace, gave her eyes 
To passionate enjoyment of his face. 
But Baldric, with the innate dread of men 
Wild-bred, grew wary of the Witch's look. 
And when her earnest eyes, fixed on him, grew 
Into wide circles, the circles into seas, 
The seas to depths serene, with wide, cool caves 
Gleaming in leas and tempting him to plunge, 
The startled Prince drew back his outstretched head 
And, fearing Lissoy, hated 'T was therefore she 
Was fain to seize him in his sleep at night, — 
She tried nor knew no art to cool her love, — 



BALDRIC AND LIS SOY. 5 I 

And haling out her boat of midnight cloud, 

With planet-light revolving in its bow, 

After a twelvemonth passed in quenchless flame — 

Flame of a Witch's added to a woman's love, — 

Bore Baldric from the Palace to her Isle. 

So was his bond of hostage broken. 

Lissoy 
Sat like the moon upon her flooded Isle, 
And more than all the spells of moon and night 
Wove she around the soul of him, her passion, 
Till last the yielding Prince put out his lips. 
Burning with eagerness, kissed her cool cheeks. 
Resistless mouth, fanned them to flaming fire, 
Spurned the cool pulse of her unoffered breasts. 
And from their melted snows drank blood-red wine. 

Great was the Witch's beauty. Her sweet eyes 
Were the dark hue of early moonless night ; 
Her hair passed from her forehead as the leaves 
On yielding boughs go from the evening wind ; 
Her mouth — O Sun and Sea, no smile of thine 
In morning or at evening wore the like ! 
She moved a cloud — a mist from Heaven — a flash 
From gates embattled near the source of things. 
So Baldric saw her, and so spent his days. 

Now Malcolm in his wrath and surety 
That Baldric would not come, upraised a cry 
Throughout the land and far Matanzine tribes 
Of Challenger : " Whereas a recreant Prince 
Foredoth his bond, and, flying from his word, 
Holdeth to savage and forbidden wilds. 
Thus challengeth to him the King's own son : 



52 BALDRIC AND LISSOY. 

A three-months' fruitless space we seeking went ; 
Safe conduct to this Prince we hereby cry, 
Solely that mighty once he wielded arms ; 
We do dispart the traitor from his name, 
And challenge on his knighthood — for a month 
Metantur King and Malcolm ! " 

This cried the heralds. 

On Lissoy's Isle no sun had risen yet ; 
The art and vast enchantment of her lore 
Conjured a ceaseless night about the place — 
Yet night from nature differing. The sweet moon 
Blushed rosily upon her dimpled face, 
And the revolving planets, in their turn, 
Lost an ancestral whiteness in new tents. 
The stars alone stood out like gleaming gems ; 
But all the rest, in heaven, or waiting earth. 
Seemed tinctured with a thousand dyes of dawn, 
A dawn delayed — while they expectant stood 
With pleasure ever on friction's eve. 
Yet Baldric sickened. Even Lissoy's art 
Combated not the swift wings of the air 
Which bare the echoes of Prince Malcolm's cry. 
Even as a man starting from sleep he tossed, 
Refused the corners of his dewy couch, 
And turned adrift the white arms winding o'er 
His breast. Straining a startled ear he sought 
In woods and hollows of the Island hills 
For words he heard not. Lissoy sped anxious. 
Importunate, restless, impassioned, wild, 
Incanting charms and bearing her full breasts. 
Winding her arms, and pleading with a tongue 
Full of all softness and seductive skill. 



BALDRIC AND LIS SOY. 53 

Still Baldric angered, and, with wakening sense 

Drove the fierce lightning of reviving eyes 

Full on her : " I charge thee send me hence ; 

Swells at my heart the old, unconquered dread. 

Newly the cry of coward clanging rings 

In ears unused, and I will break my bonds." — 

— " If that I spare thee to deny the charge ? " — 

" Give me my freedom, and for daylight's space 

The swift destruction of my yester arm. 

And I will serve thee — if I can forget."" 

This said he, for he felt relapsing sense 

And the encroachments of her constant charms. 

A light like star-lit depths swam in her eyes. 

And Lissoy kissed his feet. *' Thou shalt return 

And smiting like the Sun, O Love, descend 

With flash and vengeance on emboldened shields." 

Then worked she with her art and fashioned 
An Image like to Baldric, which she sent 
To meet the lords at drinking. When it passed 
Forth from the Island in a cloud of night 
Prince Baldric felt a tremor, and he closed 
His eyes for listening what the Image said. 
Terror fell on the lords amidst their wine : 
A slow, pale shape, of aspect singular. 
And stern in face, walked to its place amidst. 
Not one hand lifted as the Image spake : — 
" Next to to-morrow's sun Prince Baldric tries 
Issue of honesty with Malcolm,, Prince ; 
The powers, unknown, inviolable, strong. 
Potent to move, resistless in their sway, 
Detained and keep him in their close embrace. 
I pray thee speed the field. Comparison 



54 BALDRIC AND LISSOY. 

The midnight steed standing in Baldric's stall ; 

Undo the helmet and disjoint the arms 

Accoutred shapely on the Prince's wall, 

For he would come as always — lords farewell ! " 

Then Malcolm and Metantur, lords and squires 

Held not a drop of natural, manly blood 

About their hearts : fear seized them all, and most 

Of all on Malcolm, that he shook. Which Lissoy, 

Watching in the moonlight, saw and smiled. 

Then caused she a sweet cloud to blow upon 

Their nostrils, and their hardy hearts revived. 

The foremost Malcolm, that he swung his arms 

And pitying the wan, so senseless, Shape 

To meet him after morrow, nodded and laughed. 

Disbanding Baldric's Shape, fair Lissoy drew 
His head upon her bosom and upraised 
His clinging eyelids. Then she poured her charms, 
Mingling her longing with his stricken sense. 
Till that he yearned, and yearning loved his fill. 
Thus sang she as bewitched time went by : — 

" By cloud and mist dies out the sun. 
The moon is sick, her light is gone, 
The stars are falling one by one. 
But love, my Love, lives on, lives on ! 

" The wind will poison where it passed, 
Red rivers rise with bloody taste 
To the lost wretch within them cast. 
But love, my Love, will last, will last ! 

" O hope and cling to love alone ! 
Love is the writing on the stone, 



BALDRIC AND LIS SOY. 55 

Remaining still tho' overgrown — 
And living on, Sweet, living on ! 

" I am the Lover — thou the Love : 
Thou hast the power — I do but move : 
Run sweetly in thy settled groove — 
Who saw the end of circling Love ? " 

First morn that Island saw broke on her song : 
Then Lissoy sent her harbinger of night, 
Hondu, to fetch the midnight steed and arms. 
These she enchanted, and the gloomy steed 
Flashed from his socket eyes of leaping flame. 
His hoofs were mighty brass ; his breath of snow 
Chilled to the heart whereon the creature blew. 
The spe^r she tipped with fire, and bathed the 

sword 
In a hot liquid of compounded light — 
Flashing and raging. Atop the tall-built helm. 
And down the linked mail she thickly strewed 
Red eyes of dragons : concentred in the shield 
A mighty snake waved his convulsive jaws. 
Then o'er them all she drew a mantle rich 
Of golden dye and sent her Hero forth. 
Horse and his rider stood within the boat, 
And Lissoy's self, invisible in air, 
Sang songs of glory as they ferried out — 
With the gold mantle shimmering in the sun. 

When Malcolm and the dread, expectant lords 
Saw the wild Prince in silken costume clad, 
They lightened, and their hearts with laughter filled. 
The more so, as with wayworn, haggard face, 



56 BALDRIC AND LIS SOY. 

Nodding to neither, Baldric chose his place. 

Whereat the Herald blew and either asked 

If yet desirous to be quit the field. 

Three times he blew — and thrice they held their 

peace. 
Then Malcolm with a cutting tinge of scorn : 
" Wilt fight, O Prince, with golden arms to-day ? " 
Whereat forgetful Baldric parted off 
His mantle and the magic arms unrolled. 
Dismay stood coldly upon Malcolm's lips, 
And the wide eyes of all beholders saw 
With horror a dread Serpent coiled a-shield. 
Keen eyes of flame flashing afore, and red, 
Bleared dragons' eyeballs aping myriad shapes. 
Then first spake Baldric : " Such as I am thou 

seest : 
For good or ill enveloped in the fire 
Of Magic — breathing the ghastly smoke of Hell. 
My heart is like a Demon, and it leaps, 
Unknowing pity, to thy conquest, Prince ! " 
Forth from his hand the quivering fire-tipped lance 
Dashed like a comet flying toward the sun, 
Burnt o'er the breastplate of Prince Malcolm's 

horse 
And smothered in his vitals. The bright sword. 
Blinding beholders, fused distempered mail. 
And fell a-hissing — quenching fire with blood. 
From this black smoke the Serpent's noise re- 
sounded. 
But, like the clamor of a beaten gong. 
Its sibilant and high reverberate sounds 
Fell into whispers — the whispers into sighs, 
And sighs to echoes of a woman wailing. 



BALDRIC AND LIS SOY. 57 

Thin, lambent flames consuming Malcolm's corse 
Split to a thousand tongues — leaping and singing — 

" Tho' men may die, Love is too sweet 
To perish with consuming heat ; 
Tho' hearts run out, Love is too light 
To wander thro' the shades of night ; 
Tho' swords are swift and steel is keen, 
Love lightly flies the way between ; 
Love has a birth, but never dies — 
Love lackest eyelids to its eyes — 
Love is a giver spoiled of all — 
A flame beyond its own recall — 
Love never was, but is, and I 
Hear nothing but my own heart's cry ! " 

So Lissoy led the flaming steed away. 




INSPIRATION. 



T O, I am one of those unhappy souls 
■*— ' Who ever dwell upon the troubled shores 
Of Inspiration, and I lie amid 
The heaped sands. From time to time I see 
Fair spirits walk the shore with lightsome feet 
And happy aspect ; harmonious speech they use 
And interchange; With heavenly faces some 
Look far across the sea, and smiling find 
A friend and comrade sailing o'er the deep 
Whom they would equal, and so passing on 
They eagerly unloose the golden chained boats, 
And push adrift with hurried ringing oar 
And gladsome sonnets singing. 

Far and sweet 
Return the echoes of their merry songs 
Unto my anxious ears, and I, o'ercome 
By sad desire, do strive to gather in 
The dulcet pauses of their various tones 
And to repeat them ; but my voice is harsh : 
A bitter disappointment ceaselessly 
Recalls me unto silence, and I moan. 
Enough for me to Avatch the shining barks 
58 



INSPIRATION. 59 

Which flit in silver circles o'er the sea 
And list their music ringing. Enough for me 
To see some far, resplendent, daring one 
Bend to his rhythmic oars and brave the sun, 
While from the distance, as from Heaven itself. 
Comes his sweet song. 

Approaching to the shore, 
From out the great and populous unknown, 
Speeds a fair youth, as day before the sun. 
See him unlink the chains I oft have tried 
And seaward glide. Go, blessed soul, and join 
The company of them to search the sky, 
While I grow old and haggard by the sea. 
Sometime I deem it best that I return 
Unto yon city, and forsake the sea 
Of songs and echoes. So, with plodding feet. 
And heart a-bleeding, come I back. — 

But oh. 
The cruel faces and the serpent eyes 
That glide the crowded ways ! Lo the hot breath 
Of pride and scorn is at my heart. No more 
The beautiful expanse of cloud and sea 
Brings to me life — to others song ; no more 
The pleasant pain to hear them singing far 
Tho' I be silent ; even so no more 
I witness what I would be — so afraid 
Unto the shore returns my running step, 
And my poor feet dip in the silver sea. 
There do I kiss the golden, glittering sands. 
And vow a vow to them, and to the sun. 
That I will wait forever there to die 



6o 



INSPIRA TION. 



Oh, shall it come, when past the weary watch, 

That, taught of Time, and many listening years, 

I shall uplift a song not harsh and rude ? 

Oh, shall those far-off echoes, which resound 

Only forever to a harmony, 

Be ever caught by strain or song of mine — 

And in their gladsome caverns, sing again 

My words — to send them moving o'er the sea ? 

So should this be, deem me as spirit blest, 

Emerging from a penance dread of years, 

And moving over pleasant, happy shores 

To an earthly haven. Deem me as one 

Who, lost in the fruition of a hope. 

Forgets his pain forever. Deem me then 

Not suffering ever, but a favored soul 

With multitudinous companions gone 

Upon a way denied to other men. 

Naught shall the years of failure hinder me 

And naught their bitter burnings rob my heart. 

If I may pass the breakers of that sea 

I care not for my tears upon the shore ; 

I care not for my life — nor any thing, 

Only I care to be in that sweet sun, 

And sing the songs that others sing to me. 




SONG. 



r\ PAUSING Rhyme ! hath ever been to me 
^-^ Thy flowery, luscious meads^ when tired and 

torn, 
Backward from humbled hope I came — repose. 
When in the insensate lethargy of life 
I sank and slept, hath been thy sounding voice 
The eager trump of angel, waking far 
Sweet movements of new glories and fresh fields. 
Hath been to me, thy changing note, O Song, 
A prelude to hereafter : seems it indeed 
The converse of great souls empeopling 
A void — from happy distant courts descended. 
Thou art a Syren singing ! Thy pure voice, 
Of stops delicious, and with notes divine, 
No follower lures to death or to despair : 
Sweetly thy face forever partly turned — 
Sends forth thine even accents, echo gives 
Forever longer notes, and deeper, tearful tunes. 
Time is that bitterly I laugh at life 
And scarce can smile in easy heart upon 
The day to come. Then tremulous looseth thou 
Some blessed tone, to overthrow despair, 
6i 



62 SONG. 

And I rejoice in hope, renewed and sweet. 

Do I say wrong if often comes to me 

Thine earthly tones in something heavenly guise ? 

Am I forbid to hear in human speech 

Catches and touches of our lot supreme ? 

Thou leadest not, and never shalt thou lead 

A soul astray, and for my heart — O heart 

Thou canst not utter all thy debt to Song. 

Alas, mine is a miser's greed, I take 

And cannot give. Lo, all my hoarded wealth 

Is that I steal of others : Nothing bears 

My impress minted down : No valued piece 

Rings to my name, nor passes current — none. 

But even so, O Song, I cling to thee : 

Thou, soaring upward, passest from my hold, 

But canst not perish from my soul and sight. 

While I, wandering thro' brier, or brake, or maze, 

Do constant hearken, and do constant hear 

Thy voice and echoes. Even to the end 

Shall I live thus, then in that latest day 

Shall troop thy various verses intertwined 

With other tongues and music, and in that 

Commingling shall my spirit be refreshed. 








ART. 



T LOOK upon this statue, lily pale. 
■^ My fingers trace the dimples at her mouth ; 
My eyes fall from their gaze at her poised'head 
To an unblemished contour, and I see 
Earth's fairest form in marble — lifeless only. 
Can I divine the graceful phantoms and 
Enrapturing sprites that flocked the brain of him 
Her maker ? Are they not sternly shut to me. 
Those endless vistas of the beautiful 
Which artists see, and know, and walk amid ? 
This know I, for he took from her place 
Within the imagery of his brain and set 
Her out upon the crowded, populous way, 
And all did recognize her beauty and 
Her fitness. But there are others, kin to her 
That I shall never see. Those are his friends, 
Companions, loves. With them he laughs and holds 
His happy intercourse, and frequent goes 
From our cold faces and unknowing hearts 
To sympathy and careless ease with them. 
Be sure he gives to us no trace of form 
Nor feature till they have to him o'erpast 
63 



64 ART. 

Their youth and blossom in his jealous watch. 
Unknown the sweethearts of his fancy live 
And we are cudgelled Avith his elder loves. 
Enough. — O Painter, in the face you set 
Aglow and strong we hold reflected light. 
Had not the sun of your high ardor burned 
Thro' morn and noon, 't were never gold at eve. 
Richer to us the slanting colors come 
In parting thus : — hung on the purple dusk 
They are enough ; for we less strong of sight 
Would dazzle in the noontide of your tliought. 



•^-^^^^^^^sii^f^^^^^ 




»^ 



LOVE. 



f~\ SONG I hear thee : I see thee, Art : but what 
^-^ Have I of Love ? As one within a dark 
Dread chamber stands and looking forth enjoys 
A precious picture of the mead and hills 
Shining and sweet, but far removed from him, 
So fears him for an instant turn away 
Into the lonesome stillness where he stands ; — 
So, Love, with thee ; throughout my gloomy eyes 
I gaze upon thy sweet resemblances, 
And only gaze. O strong the growing sun 
Doth lay his golden touches on thy hair, 
And fresh the morning dew upon thine eyes — 
Thy tender eyes, which some white-fingered^moon 
Did fashion in the solitude of night. 
Then too the silent stars did jewel thee 
With graces and enchantments many. Pure, 
O pure shine out thy gems and lustres, Love, 
To him who has within the echoes of 
His heart some curious and unfathomed cell 
Where the least whisper of thy maiden lips 
Reverberates and thrills ; — O Love, to him 
Call life a blessing. But bitter is the day 
Of him who only guesses at thy joy : 
Unrest and longing hold him evermore. 
65 



66 LOVE. 

To me thou art as unsubstantial and 

Unknown as yonder midway spray upon 

The hill-side cataract — to me as cold. 

Another comes and looking upward sees 

The red and purple of the rainbow gleam 

And stretch its arms abroad — I only see 

Yon dark brown rocks break thro' the drifting 

spray. 
Why do I live so cold and far from Love ? 
Such longing I could almost believe would move 
Her spirit to compassion, and to me, 
Trembling and prone, would she stretch forth^her 

hands — 
Caress and guide me. No : I am not hers. 
She is not mine ; and I, with eyes bedimmed 
And full of agony, watch on and wait forever — 
Forever — while my heart runs cold and dry. 





NATURE. 



Y/'E hills, I turn to you. Forever mine 
■^ Are thy cold sides, thy rough and stony paths. 
See, down yon vale the morning shadows rise 
And robe with lightsome, misty beauty each 
Rude pass and peak, drifting the chasms o'er. 
To see them, and to know the wayward course 
The clouds take through thy hollow, deep ravines, 
Is mine, as much, nay more, than others, mine. 
When red from weary travel, soiled and sloth, 
Apollo steps upon the quiet sea, 
Delays, and plunges to refreshing tide, — 
'T is mine to see his golden, glittering feet 
Shine on the slope of a slow moving wave, 
And go their way down to the distant caves. 
All these, and also mine the holy night. 
When earth her censer swings — the milky way — 
Mid-heavenward, 't is mine to see and watch. 
The close of day, and the white wheeling moon, 
Who sends her beauty o'er the mountain side 
Before her face, are what none gave and none 
Can take from me, — As they have taken much. 
Yon river has its course within my heart ; 
And those dear Islands, resting in the bend, 
67 



68 NA TURE. 

Are seats my memory leans upon, smiling 
O'er pleasant thoughts. 

O strong, great Ocean, are 
Thy ceaseless tones, and many calls thou hast 
For me ! I know them all, thy various speech 
Of night and day. I know the shaking of 
The summer leaves in thy salt sea breeze, and 
The dread, great tempest of a sullen mood. 
The sky is mine ; the home where live my hopes ; 
My hopes for human love, when constantly 
Some face recurs unto my haunted brain. 
O sweet the meads where wander aimless feet, 
And tender there the chance-met flowers and 

leaves ; 
The stream to intercept me, and the bench, 
An easy consolation for unnoted hours. 
Tho' hearts should fail me I should live in these. 
And hearts do fail me : — day by day I see 
A new, cold caution creep into the eye ; — 
Some careful speeches from instructed tongues ; — 
Some hidden motive draw the curtain down. 




Q:^^J^^y^ 




THE GOLD-DREAM. 



A MAN stands by the Ocean's rim 
^*- And looks along the level sands : 
The sea and shore are strong to him, 
And strange the hills by which he stands. 

A little stretch of shore and grass — 
A narrow slope by which to pass — 
And then from the blue sky drops down 
A rough-faced mountain's angry frown. 

His horse is loosed upon the beach — 
With tired movement paws the ground — 
Neglects the grass within his reach, 
And weary turns him round and round : 
He drops his head — he bends his knees— 
And with a long, long moan goes down. 

A little back, not long agone, 
Was Eland husband of a home — 
Children and wife — and never man 
Passed quieter his common lot : 
A single night's sweet sleep began 
69 



JO THE GOLD-DREAM. 

The Dream which drew him leagues away. 
Drew him away without one kiss : 
No parting : not a touch — nor look : 
Sudden he threw her heart aside, 
And in its place his Dream he took — 
His Dream he took for path and guide. 

And as he stands no thought goes back ; 
No memory flies the rolling main ; 
He travels not his homeward track, 
Nor whispers her accustomed name : 
No changing pictures of the past — 
His eye is fixed upon the scene 
He never knew but in his Dream : 
His heart is set — his face is fast — 
His hope and he — and none between ! 

A fire which neither brush nor pen 
Can mimic, grows upon the sea : 
The shore is gold : the mountain glow 
Hangs purple on a golden sky. — 
His yellow face becomes aflame. 
His hollow eyes like jewels gleam. 
Convulsively he cries — " The same 
This golden picture in my Dream — 
I know my thought is not a lie ! " 

Long in the cold and leaden gray 

He watched the steps of vanished Day — 

And cursed them as he turned away. 

With loveless heart and cruel hand 
He tracked his horse upon the strand — 



THE GOLD-DREAM. /I 

*' That I may live, my horse must die " — 
Heedless his steel and deadly hand, 
Stretched softly on the cooling sand, 
His main lapped in the coming tide, 
The wearied steed had dropped, and died. 

In mist and cloud comes up the day ; 
Thro' wind and wet he climbs his way ; 
O'er stone and steep the days are seven ; 
He travels clear abreast with heaven : 
The seventh evening, in the light 
Which fades within the folds of night, 
He came unto the mountain's rim 
And saw a valley lie within ; 
Saw — sitting in its deep recess — 
The very shape of Loneliness. 
Rock after rock the sudden side 
Fell bleached adown the long divide. 

With one wild shriek from off the brim 

Almost the gazer leaped within : — 

" I see ! I see the golden sheen ! 

Gold on the ground — Gold in my Dream ! " 

A lizard, basking in the sun, 
Is settled on a yellow heap, 
A man, whose eyes are set upon 
His prey, is crawling closer on : 
With lifted head the lizard stands, 
Almost between the withered hands : 
A clutch — a yell — a maniac scream — 
The lizard glides his hands between ! 



72 THE GOLD-DREAM. 

Again the famished watcher tries ; 
Again the lazy lizard lies : 
• Nearer the crawling fingers pass, 
Firmer the threaded sinews grasp : — 
His weakened jaws work on their prey — 
" For life " — he cries — ** another day." 

Gold — crimson in the rising sun — 
Gold — glittering as the day rolls on — 
Gold — mellow in the evening dun — 
Gold — bright beneath the moon : 
Gold — yellow, heaped and piled about — 
Gold in the earth and gold without ; 
Gold for his life — Gold for his death — 
Gold for his soul — Gold for his breath — 
Gold for his hope — and Gold his boon ! 

" I have my riches now," he cries ; 
" I hold a wealth that never dies : 
Renown and Honor pass away, 
Love has his night as well as day ; 
Fame — Fortune — Favor — come and go, 
This Gold shall never serve me so. 
My gold can every pleasure give, 
When I am dead, my Gold shall live : 
My wife — she is distinct from me, 
This gold is mine — and mine shall be ! " 

In after years when men came down the vale. 
Intent and eager for the fabulous spoil, 
Their Leader sudden stopped, and deadly pale 
Drew from the sight with shuddering recoil. 
Clasping a nugget to its bony breast 



THE GOLD-DREAM. 



73 



Lay the white frame, its horrid fingers still 
Clung to the prize, and eagerly it pressed 
Its shattered self upon the golden hill. 
'* The heap is his ; I touch it not ;" the man 
Unto his followers made a warning sign ; 
While their loose eyes the precious riches scan 
A whisper stirred about " This Gold is mine ! " 





LAKE SHADOWS. 



A S one might loosely throw to ground 
-^*- A silken string to fall as best 
It might, so looped lay around 
The borders of the lake and pressed 
Upon the shore. 

About the marge 
Grew thick and thornless woods of oak ; 
Deep in the placid water stood 
Swan houses, and calmly sailed at large 
Their shining owners o'er the flood. 

For years, within my life, aback, 
Had visions flowed, unsteady dreams ; 
Shadows, that kept the stronger track 
As leaves keep pace with streams. 
Listless and dull with summer heat 
I sat me down on the oaken seat : 
The sun anear the west was red, 
The winds were waiting for the dew, 
The leaves upon the air lay dead. 
The moon was swung in opal blue, 
74 



LAKE SHADOWS. 75 

The time was perfect and my mood 
Was perfect for the solitude. 

To dream my dreams, with half-shut eyes 
I looked upon the inverted skies 
Adown the lake, — wholly resigned 
I gave the guidance of my mind 
To every fable it inclined. 

From the deep caverns stately came, 

With crested neck, and waving mane, 

A troop of ancient horse in mail. 

Their riders rode as regal knights. 

And marched abreast the emerald heights'; 

A leader passed before the band 

With lance laid in his iron hand. 

Upwinding from the deeper green 
Rode the firm troop in paler sheen, 
Wheeling they came — as eagles fly 
And circle to the topmost sky. 

The water whirled with fervid flow, 
They rode the whirlpool calm and slow. 
Until as Venus broke her way — 
Their helmets dashed aside the spray ! 

Clear up the bank their chargers spring, 
And loud their swords in scabbards ring. 
At touch of earth their steeds neighed out. 
Their riders answered jest and shout. 
And down the aisles they rode away 
Into the woodland's closing day. 



"J^ LAKE SHADOWS. 

" Ah me ! a useless shade," I said ; 
" The knight and knightly hand are dead : 
And well they are, for Virtue's cause 
Sometimes fell down to sterner laws. 
A single Judge — that Judge was knight, 
The law was might — and might was right." 

Adown the depths my eyes I cast. 
A fairer picture than the last 
Grew in the lake, and sweetness sent 
Upward, with song and music blent. 

For I saw a hall of beauty 
Grow into the glinting light. 
Top and base of polished marble 
Sprang upon the dazzled sight ; 
Arch and pillar lightly tracing 
Lines upon the watery way. 
Corridor and porch displacing 
Dimness in their pure array. 
Stone on stone the glimmering marble 
Rose with changing shade and gleam. 
While a low and lute-like warble 
Drifted hall and arch between : — 
Growing grandly full — melodious — 

Gloriously as notes could meet ; 
Changing then to plaintive measures, 

Into intonations sweet. 
Came the sounds across my hearing, 

Imitative of a call, 
Now receding, and now nearing, 

As if floating thro' the hall. 
Thrilled me then an ardent feeling 



LAKE SHADOWS. yj 

To find this fount of music rare, 
When a warning voice came stealing, 

'' Trust not the enchanted air ! " 
But the burning thought had seized me, 

And I knew no cold restraint, 
While the lute-like voice which pleased me 

Growing gradually faint 
Charmed me in its sweetest plaint. — 

Sudden in and out the arches 

Marble statues walked apace, 
Moving in their paths and marches 
With a rare and courtly grace : 
But their dead eyes straightly staring 

Forward with one thought alone 
Chilled me, so to see them wearing, 

Blind intensity on stone. 

Scarcely dared my heart its beating 

So wondrous was the palace made, 
When a shimmer, sharp and ileeting, 

Shook its brightness into shade. 
And I saw a strange dissembling 

Of the statues and the hall. 
Mingling each, and each resembling 

Swiftly the lake absorbed them all. 
Strangely fled they from my vision 

As they wondrously had come, 
And from beautiful precision 

Vainly sought the sight for one. 

'' Alack," I said ; 

Palace and fairy Queen are dead. 

These are the sweets of childhood's days, 



78 LAKE SHADOWS. 

A man needs travel truer ways. 
Magicians — moving in their cloud — 
The captive maidens wailing loud — 
Enchanters — Giants — Demons — Sprites — 
The Ghouls that feast themselves o' nights- 
These live no longer — fair or rude — 
I could not believe them if I would. 

Two stars gleamed in the lake and grew 
To take the shape of eyes of blue ! 
I smiled at them, and looking back 
The eyes were deep and shining black. 

Her hair was yellow on the wave, 

Her look was plaintive, and she gave 

Such color to her love for me 

That I would fain have walked the sea 

To meet her, but she beckoned back. 

And looked, and longed with eyes of black. 

Great love grew in my heart, I wept 
While she her coming motion kept : 
Keenly I noted every grace, 
And the rare aspect of her face ; 
I knew she loved and longed for me. 
And came to meet me through the sea. 

Me only. — None below were fair 
Beside the glory of her hair. 
No note nor poem ere was sweet 
Beside the movement of her feet. 

She came — parted her lips — and drew 
A sweet sigh of relief and rest ; 



LAKE SHADOWS. 79 

Backward her yellow hair she threw, 

Her outstretched arms sprang from her breast — 

A moment — 

Lo ! a noble man 
Passed to her side — she turned her eyes — 
Her hair over his bosom ran, 
And shed its light like dying skies. 

I only — I was left alone ! — 

The clouds lay cold and blue, like stone, 

And night was in the forest moan. 

" Enough ! " I said ; 

** The day, and too my dreams, are dead. 

Romance — Enchantment — Love — for me 

Lie dead and dismal in the sea. 

I may not overlive the past ; 

My thoughts must to the present cling. 

The bell stands still upon the blast — 

If I turn backward to my dreams. 

Another, swinging wider themes. 

Grasps boldly on the idle string. 

And I am left, all overpast, 

To hear how sweetly he may ring." 




THE ECHO-HUNTER. 



T TNDER the fall of a cascade 

^ He stood, where the quick bubbles played 

And ran from sunshine into shade. 

The wind-blown mist forever fell 
Into the heart of each bluebell, 
Filled and refilled each empty cell. 

Heavy hearted and brimming o'er 
The flowers did their tears outpour. 
And, looking upward, gathered more. 

Ever the wind blew in the spray. 
And ever the bluebells turned away 
To weep, and nodded back alway. 

And ever the mist uprose and fell, 
And ever the wind arose as well, 
And blew the mist about the dell. 

Forever over the self-same stone 
The water ran in monotone — 
Forever come — forever gone. 

80 



THE ECHO-HUNTER. g 

Forever the moss crept by degrees 
Around the dead limbs of the trees, 
And drank the mist upon the breeze. 

Forever the cloud and moon went by, 
And ever at midnight came the cry 
Of owl and night-hawk, sailing high. 

He stooped and gathered in his hand 
Some heavy grains of the wind-wet sand 
That miniature-wise builded a strand. 

He poured the sand his fingers thro', 
And tost it up, and poured anew. 
And shook aside the heavy dew. 

So when the sand all golden dry 
Did swiftly thro' his fingers fly. 
He threw a little heap on high 

Over the pool, and as he threw 
He called aloud the chasm thro' 
" True love, true love ? — untrue ? " 

The wind stood still ; the drift spray grew 
To a heavy cloud in the upper blue — 
Across its heart an echo flew — 

"Untrue — untrue — untrue." A shade 
Bitter and half expected played 
Over his features as he laid 

Adown the breath-blown sand to find 

Two pebbles fashioned of a kind 

By stream and time and change and wind. 



82 THE ECHO-HUNTER. 

So found the kindred stones at last, 
The one he kept, the other cast 
Deep where the pool in eddies past. 

Again he called ; but ever first 
He cried the wish he wanted most, 
Never to change the echo durst — 

" True love — true love ? — untrue ? " The sky- 
Looked in the pool with clouded eye 
And a troubled wind went passing by. 

The wind sped into a mist-clad cave 
And out a shrieking echo drave, 
These the hoarse accents that it gave — 

" Untrue — untrue — untrue." His heart 
Quivered to the accustomed dart. 
His lips were cold and torn apart. 

He loosed the fellow-stone, and then 
Sought him two wild-flowers on a stem, 
Each like to each as a twin gem. 

The one upon his heart he laid. 
The other threw where the cascade 
Its leap into the sunlight made. 

Each bluebell strove to bear upright 

Upon a stalk too frail and slight 

Its brimming load of tear-drops bright. 

But a thousand blue eyes turned aside 

And a thousand hopes in the heartsease died 

As the echo out of the cascade cried 



THE ECHO-HUNTER. 83 

" Untrue — untrue — untrue." Poor flower 
Together in the self-same bower 
Dew-lipped — and dead in the self-same hour. 

Forth from the pool and the cascade 
He went and wandered down the glade, 
But his yearning cry and its echo stayed. 

And ever the nighthawk sailing high 
Hears something answer his own cry 
And shrieks to find it coming nigh. 

Sometimes it laughs in the mid-day blue, 
Sometimes in the cold moon's clouded hue, 
In frost and fire. " Untrue — untrue." 




A VISION. 



T IKE moonlight came young Calyce thro' air 
'-^ And on the hill-side dropped her dewy feet, 
Folded her easy wings, and drew her veil. 
Shining with spirit essence, o'er her breast, 
Expectant stood, listening with lips apart. 

Not long was she alone : cleaving the air 

On wing of eager love, impatient e'en 

Of an ethereal obstacle, Hsemon 

Flew with vast flight, in eddying tumult turned 

The circle of the hill and lit beside. 

Kiss after kiss, until their spirit lips 
Burned hot and loving as in mortal time, 
They gave, and Hsemon led, caressing still, 
Her to a grassy seat, and thus he said : 

** One joy I have more than those days we trod 
The earth in our first lives, thy subtle sense 
And lightly veiled soul can comprehend 
The immensity and power of this my love. 



A VISION. 85 

** Gone are the yearning days I strove to tell 
That wonder of my heart, my mortal love. 

Calyce, thy fluttering spirit feels 

The flame of mine, and life no more divides ! 

'* Tho' ten years' time, since we have met, is past, 

Thou knowest I love thee ! and tho' ten years roll 

Their circles 'mid the large celestial spheres 

Ere we again together touch the earth, 

Yet shalt thou keenly feel, my love, that time 

As now ; O inextinguishable truth 

That born in time, our love immortal is ! " 

Her hand in his, with smiling eyes she said : 

" But as a summer day do pass the years 

Of my Elysian life ! space is so sweet, 

And fair the reaching plains we thither tread, 

That an exemption from impatience claims 

Our beings, and we know not time nor tears. 

One flutter only of my olden pain 

Thrills me sometimes — I have thee not — but then 

1 know thy love, and know that we shall meet." 

From his dark forehead fell a shadow down 
His visage, and I saw that he knew pain. 
" Immutable the Law, and I too late 
Would willingly walk that lonely pilgrimage 
That was prepared : too late ! too late ! heedless 
My soul, swept in the current of its own 
Despair, rushed to the brink and down the chasm 
Plunged. Judge me, O blessed one, my tale, — 
For thou rememberest that our last converse 
Was singly passed in commune of our hearts, 



86 A VISION. 

And yet thou knowest not my state, — my tale 
I do recount : — 

" When thou didst languid lie, 
And Fever, that dread Pestilence, shook his wing 
Of cloud and darkness over thy frail form 
Exulting at the prize — mayhap thou dost 
Recall the single moment that thy soul 
Was tethered by our hearts, and dared not go — 
O the damp dew was on thy lips that spoke 
Their love of me, and mine were cold as thine 
And could no stronger call : — breathing my name 
Thy spirit fled. 

" It was not I who bore the dead 
Away under the arches consecrate ; 
Nor did I stand beside the crypt they made ; 
Nor lay a single lily in thy hand ; 
Nor call upon my God over thy corse ; 
Nor do as they did, but with fearful eyes 
Far off, upon a desolate hill I was 
And saw the throng, and heard the organ echo 
Thro' open doors, as paced the multitude 
Forth from the fane unto thy burial-place. 
Then in the night did I go out to die. 

" O strange possession in our mortal life 
Is Death ; he will not humor us, but we 
May overreach him once ; then he, stooping 
To our desires, obeys, and vanquishes. 

" Dost thou remember, sweet, the shelving beach 
We used to tread, down by the western sea — 
Where the flood-tide blows his salt breath of spray 
Direct upon the rock, and ebbing leaves 



A VISION. 87 

A gentle marge ? To that high rock I came. 
How often, hand in hand, we paced that shore. 
And heard in echoes of the rugged rock 
Our loving words ? How often there the moon 
Looked less serene than did thy soul-lit eyes 
Reflecting mine, and evening air, less soft 
Than thy sweet whispers, pined and died away. 
That night the surge beat high o'er sunken beach 
And midway climbed the precipice, I could 
Have wished to lie upon the shore and die. 
So that the sea wave coming in should cast 
His cold embraces o'er my corse and draw 
Seaward the extinguished lamp. 

" But tide forbade. 
And I climbed high the ascent to spreading 

Heaven, 
Content the sky should be my wider grave. 
O spirit sweet, only forever thou 
Shalt know the mortal heart's desire to flee 
From death. Some brief and passing days you lay 
Shunning th' approach of dissolution — now 
Forever deathless, not desiring death. 
Beatified in thine immortal state. 
O little pain of those who die to those 
Left languishing ; better the hardy oak 
Falls sudden on its fellows from woodman's axe, 
Than in the desert tract some lonely palm 
Sickens and perishes in arid sand. 
An hour passed by, and still another drew 
Yet lower down the western wheeling moon, 
But still I lived. Then wonderful to me 
It seemed that no dark Angel's wing flew by 
And threw its shade on me : and when 



88 A VISION. 

The curved moon fell even from my height 

Adown, I listened in the certainty 

To hear the hoarse and charnel voices of 

The infernal Spirits, or — blessed hope, — 

Perchance thine own exempted soul go by. 

An hour of darkness absolute came on. 

I could not see abroad ; I felt the sun 

Was drawing ouAvard up the eastern sea ; 

Also I knew that night I would not die, 

Nor in the day, nor in another. Then 

Despair and anger bought my beggared will 

And I called madly thro' that awful waste 

On Hell and on its Prince. My dreadful voice 

Rang hoarsely out, and laughter followed it. 

Who calls on Hell is answered. I became 

A maniac, and leapt to the beetling brink. 

Once did I pause. Then Satan conjured up 

Thine image, and my doubts and safety fled. 

Down, down I fell, until the atmosphere 

Hissed with my coming, and my starting eyes 

Saw two wide tracts of flame before my face. 

I fell — dashed on the unshaken rocks, I fell." 

Calyce shuddered: — "Vast and immeasurable 

Opened this spirit world upon me. Two 

Sable and mighty angels lifted up 

My soul, and bore me thro' a leaden space 

On wing monotonous. Over a sea 

Of ebon waters, and thro' midnight clouds, 

For what might be a two-days' space we went, 

And spoke not. Incessant flying onward toward 

A far-off rift, where gleamed a ghastly light. 

Journeyed my bearers, and I lay perplexed. 

Stricken and dumb across their outstretched arms. 



J VISION. 89 

When last we came into the lurid glare, 

They placed my feet upon a vapored mass 

And stood beside. Then gazing out I woke 

And saw a sight of woe unutterable. 

Countless the ranks of my tribunal sate : 

The greater first, circled within the light, 

Wearing their visages of power and dark 

Intent ; the less hung round in every shape 

And form, pressing far out to night and chaos. 

One from the greater rose and spake : 

' Doomed art thou for thy self-destruction ; bound 

Unto a mighty penance thou remainest ; 

But that the universal Savior, Love, 

Did cause thy crime, beyond these utmost ranks. 

Amid the gloomiest Hell would even now 

Thy leaden pinions droop. But Love was thy 

Destruction and thy stay. Hear the command : 

Of thee the task required is battle with 

The tremulous suicide. Thou shalt contend 

With spirits from still lower worlds in war ; 

With them thine energies shalt wrestle, thine 

To save and theirs to slay. For look, they lie 

Forever curst, and therefore lost to good. 

Thou art but penitential, and thy deeds 

If fought with strength may respite and reprieve : 

Go to thy mission, for there is no more ! ' 

Outwending from the ranks a spirit came 

And touched my hand! — 'Brother,' he said, *as 

thou 
Am I condemned : This mercy mine, as thine. 
That we together may pardon pursue.' 
Into his sad and clouded eye I gazed 
And instantly I knew him for a friend — 



90 A VISION. 

As friend to me hath Aden ever been. 

What time these desperate years have he and I 

Our double strength opposed to the dark fiends 

Of lowest Hell, waging invisible war 

About the yet unended living wretch 

Steeped in despair. Ofttimes our vigorous wills 

And puissant arms successfully defend 

The powers of them our charges ; victors we 

Drive from the plains of air our baffled foes. 

But oft, how oft " — and here a spasm passed 

O'er Hsemon's face — '' we vanquished lie — often, 

O often have I seen the bubble rise 

Upon the water's edge — a single sign — 

The inarticulate last word of her 

Sunk down — the red wound gaping wide, the eye 

Upturned and dreadful. Horrors too great forename 

Hang round our battle-field ; and madly strewn 

There every flower of God's kingdom is, 

In separate defilement steeped, and torn 

Lies every bud. Gone with the laughing fiends 

Have we beheld the souls of guilty men : 

The fratricide, the miser, and the wretch 

Who steals the virtue God gave Eve in Eden. 

Such have we lost, and more, but many saved. 

And for this work am I permitted to 

Revisit thee, and Aden says perchance 

In the long future we shall be received 

'Mid the low ranks of thy celestial lot." 

Sweet as the violet turning to the sun 
Calyce raised her eyes and looked on him : 
'^ Hsemon, ever I believed thou canst defeat 
The awful sequence of that mortal deed. 



A VISION. 91 

Deathless, O sweet, is Love, immortal not 
The cause, the conflict — the agony and end." 
Illumined hope glowed on his eager face : 
** Thou knowest more than I the Merciful : 
Where thou canst hope surely a penitent 
May dare to sob, and pour his tears of pain." 

FIRST SPIRIT. 

Calyce, come ! 
The singing of the morning star is low, 
Slowly the misty vapors upward go, 

No longer dumb 
Terrestial birds sing echoes of the song 
That sounds the trees of Paradise among, 

Away Calyce, come ! 

SECOND SPIRIT. 

Wend, O wend, the day is dawning, 
Wretched soul I bring thee warning, 
Darkness goeth, cometh morning, 
O lost, away ! 

SPIRITS. 

Away ! Away ! 

Obedient fled Calyce his embrace ; 
Scarcely the pain she felt bedimmed her eyes. 
Fixed on their starry course to blest abodes. 
One moment lingered Haemon, then unfurled 
The shadow of his mighty wing and flew 
Opposing o'er the heavens, far away. 

Better lose time than lose eternity. 
Mournful I strode down the dark hill that I 
Had climbed intent never to wander back. 




THE FIRST SONG OF DALMEDAR, PRINCESS OF 
BAGDAD, WHICH SHE SANG IN THE ARA- 
BIAN CITY OF AKABAH, BESEIGED 
BY THE CRUSADERS. 



DARK, dark are the eyelids of Islam's sad daugh- 
ter, 
And swiftly her tear-drops encumber the strings, 
Low, low is her voice as the moonlit sweet water 
That runs where the garden of Dalmedar clings. 

Unfamiliar in clusters are scattered the stars, 
The wind from the ocean comes misty and new. 
Retreating thro' strange-fashioned passes and bars 
At sunset the splendor breaks off from her view. 

Akabah is scented and lulled into slumber 
By thousands of date-trees — the breath of the rose, 
Naught hushes Dalmedar, no musical number 
Gives rest to her lute string and to her repose. 

To the bulbuls of Irak and the Tigris fast flowing 
Her heart is in keeping, no sound is so sweet. 
For one sigh of the wind over Bagdad that 's blowing 
Would she barter the date-trees — the palace — and 
street. 

92 



sojVGs of DALMEDAR. 93 

If ever the bosom of Dalmedar's hushing 
The name of a lover in lullaby low — 
If ever her heart is swept out in the rushing 
Sweet tumult the maidens of Araby know — 

If ever her lute string in idleness fingered 
Re-echoes unwavering one note that is true — 
If ever the conch shell in ocean that lingered 
Repeateth unceasing one name that it knew — 

If ever the south wind shall fall to one accent 
And laugh the same laugh to the whispering pine — 
If ever the morning on tiptoe is intent 
To ruffle her slumber with passionate line — 

If ever Dalmedar awaken to loving — 
The gardens of Bagdad have flowers and groves, 
And there in their pathways shall Dalmedar moving 
Recount the dear tale of her pleasures and loves. 

She sees not your sweets, O ye maids of Akabah, 
She hears not the songs of your loving sung low, 
Her eyes are aweary, her memory 's far, far 
O'er the ways of the desert her footstep would go. 

Farewell to the moonlight, the mist from the ocean 
Comes over Akabar, and into her heart 
Drop the tears of a steady, undying devotion 
That clings to the Heaven which, Bagdad, thou art ! 

Farewell to the camp of the Franks as they slumber 
Like a circle of serpents about a sweet rose — 
The Prophet of Islam shall scatter their number 
As the dust of the tempest in agony goes ! 



94 SONGS OF DALMEDAR. 

Farewell unto waking — a welcome to dreaming. 
The touch of the pillow shall sever her chain, 
On the eyes of Dalmedar shall gather the gleaming 
Sweet starlight of Bagdad — the lamps of the plain ! 



THE SECOND SONG OF DALMEDAR, PRINCESS OF 
BAGDAD, CAPTIVE WITH THE CRUSADERS. 

Beneath a sky of Persian blue 

In Persian Gulf sometime there grew 

An Island of most vivid hue. 

The palm-trees spread abroad and high, 
The sweetest winds went wafting by, 
And rose-leaves round knee-deep did lie. 

The poppy raised a mighty head 
Distilling odors o'er his bed 
That down his heavy slumbers led. 

Green ivy and the golden fern 
Sprang in the nooks, like floating urn. 
Red lilies on the water burn. 

No Spirit there had ever seen 
The water lose its summer sheen, 
Or storm arise the hills between — 

For hills there were, and to the air 
They laid their rounded bosoms bare. 
Nor ever knew rough hand laid there. 

Sweet rills fell gently down their sides 
And sought th' approach of quiet tides 
As music into moonlight glides. 



SONGS OF DALMEDAR. 95 

If cloud came drifting o'er the blue 

It passed as light as ever flew 

A skylark heavenly pathways thro'. 

It never rained — a golden mist 

Rose from the hills the sun had kissed : 

Sometimes the dewdrops did persist 

To cling to blossom and to stem 
Far into noontide ; and to gem 
Mid-day's warm mantle to the hem. 

No mortal ever saw such moon ; 
'T was meeter than a night of June 
Is meet unto a lover's tune. 

Beneath the surface of a bay 

Upon the Island edge did lay 

A Dew-cave, built of amber spray. 

The spirits and the ocean flowers 
Did strive throughout the Sunlit hours 
With all their gentleness and powers 

To dress the Cave with every rare 
Sea-moss and gem that anywhere 
Grew in the confines of their care, 

For in the Cave was duly kept — 

And watched by Sprites that ever wept — 

The sweetest Pearl that ever slept. 

This Pearl it ever lay asleep ; 

The Sprites did always pray and weep 

That destiny would ever keep 



96 SOJVGS OF DALMEDAR. 

Their Pearl with innocent heart and face, 
Nor waken to the rude embrace 
Of mortal hands her sleeping grace. 

So through the ages of the sea 
Had they kept watch unceasingly, 
And slept the Pearl from sorrow free. 

One morn the Sun sprang from his bed 
And drove a gleam of angry red 
Down to the sleeping Pearl's forehead. 

The Spirits shrieked in quick alarms 
And clasped their white convulsive arms 
Over their Pearl, and muttered charms 

Against the Seamew's sudden cry, 
And strove to hush the struggling sigh, 
And hide their Pearl's unclosing eye. 

In vain — their Pearl did smile and rise, 
And draw the curtains of her eyes, 
And from her sea-depths search the skies- 
Till, glistening thro' the amber sheen 
A Diver sped the waves between 
And knelt upon a moss-heap green. 

Then Lady Pearl did take his hand, 
And upward springing from the strand 
Walked out upon the Island-land. 

The Diver placed his Pearl inside 
A boat of shell, and o'er the tide 
His oars of amethyst he plied. 



SONGS OF DALMEDAR. 97 

Far from the Island and the Sprites, 
He journeyed days and journeyed nights, 
And labored by a river's lights 

Up-stream unto a city fair, 
And landed in the evening air, 
And placed his Pearl in casket rare. 

When morning came his Pearl he set 
Within a jewelled coronet, 
Rarest that ever man had yet. 

So skilful was the setting made ; 
Ten thousand diiferent colors played 
Upon the Pearl in light and shade. 

And Lady Pearl did sit and smile, 
The Queen of all this radiant pile, - 
And ever did forget the while 

She lay asleep in Island cave, 

Nor knew the land above the wave. 

Nor lost the love her Spirits gave. 

Ah, Lady Pearl, a lady rare 
Than thou thyself little less fair, 
Wears thee, a jewel in her hair. 

And thou dost never blush to be 

Companion to her gayety — 

Tho' still more pure and sweet than she. 

The Spirits in thy Cave do weep, 

And comb their locks, and watching keep 

O'er couch where thou shalt never sleep. 



98 SOJVGS OF DALMEDAR. 

Lady Pearl, my heart is set 
Within a Prankish coronet ; 

My lips are dry — mine eyes are wet. 

1 would this chieftain cared for me 
As thy swift Diver cared for thee, 
And fared his jewel o'er the sea. 

Then were I not ashamed to be, 
O Lady Pearl, a Gem like thee, 
Begirt with wondrous constancy. 



THE THIRD SONG— OR LAMENT OF THE 

PRINCESS DALMEDAR, RANSOMED 

AT BAGDAD. 

Thus spake the Starbeam, and her mournful eyes 
Hung with the largeness naught but sorrow gives — 
O Angels ! say if 't were in Paradise 
So strong delight were 't not a Tempter lives ? 

" O Sister sweet, down from the world of stars 
Thro' the pale moonlight Allah bids me come. 
Allah, the same who, many ages since. 
Formed my young face, and in my waving hands 
Hung a great light, strong mid the lamps of 

Heaven. 
Allah, who round me drew a veil, woven 
Of silver, 'gainst the dews of night, and set 
My feet upon a rolling rift of cloud. 
Bedecked with powers ethereal and swiftness. 
Allah, who bade my locks wave in the wind, 
Attendant to the moon, and that my lamp 



SONGS OF DALMEDAR. 99 

Should follow her great lustre thro' the night. 
O joy to be new-breathed into space, 
And catch from Allah's fostering care a light 
Lordly 'mong others hanging in the air ! 

joy for me — virgin — new come to birth — 
Disparting the cool clouds and scents of Heaven 
With breath of innocence and wings of warm de- 
light ! 

Adown from Allah's throne thro' luminous ways 

1 fled, repassing thickset stars and by 
Thrice happy planets holding high their lamps 
Over the verge of earth. Past these and far 

To where the full-orbed Moon resplendent stood 

Atop of a tall mountain, resting there 

Her silver-footed sandals — loth to depart. 

Coming anear, and holding my great light 

Close to the outskirts of her drifting robes, 

I followed the sweet Moon o'er Heaven's expanse. 

Then fresh from the cool paths ere morn I passed 

Attendant still, down the horizon's shade 

Into the deep recesses underworld. 

There by the darksomes caves of sea and air 

Appeared our pathways harder, even so 

Each night bedimmed and delicate grew the face, 

At first so shining, of my wearied Moon, 

Till last, scarce equalling the journey o'er 

Earth's mountain tops, my mistress coldly dragged 

Her faded aspect by th' unpitying stars, 

O would that Allah then, prescient and kind, 

Had darkly quenched my glorious lamp and fixed 

These fleet, too fearless, feet about the ways 

Of his unchanging throne ! So had I been 

Stainless and pure — artless and happy there, 



100 SONGS OF DALMEDAR. 

'T was scarce ten nightly journeys I had made 
When wet with dews of a cold morn the Sun 
Surprised my lagging steps. O the great blush 
Warm on his forehead, with his earnest, passionate 

eyes 
And smile of power ! Poor thing ! I turned and 

leapt 
Over the ocean ways to meet his face. 
Thou knowest, O sister heart, how rosy dawn 
Will change into the awful breath of Day. 
My cool, ethereal limbs dissolved, and waxed 
The ruddy mists that bore me into flames ; 
My heart burnt to a cinder, and I fell. 
Moaning forever, and forever sad. 
Into the cliff of a great sailing cloud. 

Love ! O Sun ! Poor maiden born to night, 

1 feared thee not, withstood thee not, — unskilled 
I laid the essence of my being bare. 

And the white heat of thy tumultuous ways — 
The quenchless ardor of magnificence — 
The swift destruction of thy burning lips — ■ 
Swept me, handmaiden to the chastest Moon, 
Out on a tongue of flame to weep and perish ! 

Abashed from hence did Allah lift me up ; 

To thee from Allah's changeless throne I come, 

O Sister, know the Stars die by the Sun ! 





THE WEDDING-NIGHT OF EMMALINE. 

PROEM. 



T OVE is a River, gently rolled 

'-^ By rounded bosoms of the meads, 

Down, down the breasts of Earth is fold 

Follows the hollow where it leads : 
Over the heart of Nature pressed 

The River's arms encircling cling. 
Touching the outlines of her breast 

His liquid lips are murmuring. 
Love's mistress smiles and he is glad, 

With flashing face beneath her eyes ; 
His countenance falls swiftly sad 

Beneath the faintest of her sighs : — 
Love is a River loth to leave 

The waysides of his mistress' feet ; 
A thousand eddies interweave 

Th' unnumbered vows his lips repeat. 



Love is a River running fast, 

Filled with the rage of swift descent, 



102 THE WEDDING-NIGHT OF EMMALINE. 

Plunging the rocks, his pleasures past, 

Intently on destruction bent : 
Meeting his prison walls with roar 

Of high defiance and of hate, 
Piling the floods he cannot pour 

Beyond the barriers to his fate. 
Love is a whirlpool of desire. 

With giant arms and none to crush ; 
Twining his locks with hands of ire. 

Sending his menace with a rush 
Of fearful foam, from out the well 

Filled with the grinding of his jaws 
Upon the granite of his cell, — 

Where rage upon repression gnaws. 



III. 



Love is a River, laughter spent. 

And pain but as remembered woe. 
Losing his waters with content 

Amid the mighty tides which go 
Circling the globe with open breast, 

Inviting, with unwearied lips. 
The rivulet, weak and sore distressed, 

And the great carrier of ships. 
The waters of this River run 

Over the level sea with ease. 
Yet never on the hill-sides sprung 

A flood to give the seas increase : 
Never a Love so mighty grew 

On hills of earth, or mortal lea, 
But lost the consciousness it knew 

Passing the Gates of Eternity 1 







THE TALE. 



FIRST PART. 

What pain is it, that Countess May, 
Watching her cousin Edward Grey — 
Tho' cousin of her buried lord — 
(For love alive may ill afford 
To lose the keepsakes of its dead, 
Or silence words such lips have said — ) 
What pain is it may wildly set. 
And tether for apparent space 
Upon a motionless, still face. 
On eyelids neither dropped nor wet, 
Such awful semblance of a thing 
Fearful and over-mastering ? 

They say when hearts are wedded fast^ 
When woman finds her one desire. 
They say that woman's love will last ; 
Like an unclouded, sacred fire 
Upon the altar of her heart. 
Blown by her breathing ceaselessly. 
At every breath its flames will start 
Their votive lights, undimmed and pure^ 
So unconsuming to endure 
103 



104 THE TALE. 

Until their gentle bellows be 
Sunken and still, unused — empty. 

Mayhap it was some love like this 
Rose in this woman's heart to-day, 
And — for her sighing had been low. 
And much suppressed her words did go — 
So that the flame within her heart 
Burned but a little and in part — 
Mayhap some new, unclouded view, 
Some waste her knowledge darted thro', 
Some barrier shattered, whence she saw 
The gist of passion and its law — 
Perchance remembrance blew so wild 
Within that slumbering heart of hers, 
That her watched altar's embers mild 
Rose, as a whirlwind raging stirs 
Ashes to life, and overran 
The mastery of this woman. 

Mayhap : — but sure the Countess May 
Turned, as her cousin rode away, 
Much as the dying turn to see 
The Gulf of Death yawn dreadfully — 
With shadowy stairways for their feet. 
And crabbed calls their ears to meet. 

Twenty months since. Surely 't is rare 
The blest of earth so calmly go : 
Seldom the lords of fields as fair 
Remove their watchings from below — 
Watching their treasures as they go 
In fearless herds where pastures grow : — 



THE TALE. I05 

Seldom the lords so easily 

Take ship to sail that unknown sea ; 

Seldom content in sweet estate 

To part their company with the great 

For unattended, single fate. 

Seldom : — yet was it good to see 

This noble earl so quietly 

Resign the patent of his claim 

On Nature's face, resign his name. 

His open life, secret desires — 

(Each heart some hidden thing aspires,) 

Resign his place, as one who sends 

Acknowledgment to him who lends. 

'T is twenty months Earl Arthur lay, 
As all shall lie for just a day. 
Defenceless — with unstudied face. 
Whereon the lightning soul did trace 
Th' unbidden secrets of her face. 
Strangely the Earl smiled at the gaze 
Of him who sought for perilous ways, 
Or for the pain which fear betrays. 
Never did sweet nor sunniest day 
Look happier than the quiet clay 
Refused to frown in the morning gray. 
Well if the Countess still possess'd 
The adamant image in her breast 
Of that dark chamber's smiling guest. 

The months go by. 'T is very strange 
How friendship purifies the gaze ; 
How eyes of love transcend the range 
Of barriers blocking others' Avays : 



I06 THE TALE. 

'T is strange how useless words become 

As messengers about a home : — 

Strange, too, how home uncertain is 

As hospitaller to him, or this. 

Sir Edward, seeing with an eye 

Kindly or keen, might well descry 

Anguish and bitterness arise 

To stand within her uncurtained eyes : 

As he might well, maybe in truth 

He tarried far detained of ruth. 

The heart of man is hard indeed 

As minister to a woman's need : 

The words of man illy betray 

The comforts he inclines to say : 

For surely of his larger store 

Man doth her weakness much deplore : 

Surely Sir Edward's words arose 

But poorly from his pitying heart — 

Daily endeavoring to disclose 

His sympathy entire, or part, 

Still largely words of will forbore — 

Perchance for this he came no more. 

Passing the months intolerable 

To some is anguish idly borne : — 

Some hearts are wells, turbid and full, 

Because the silent chain, unworn, 

Never descending, cannot ease 

The waters of their own increase. 

Some hearts make bitterness too fast : 

Grateful to such is plummet cast 

In anxious depths — the grinding chain 

Draws from such hearts some tithe of pain. 



THE TALE. 10/ 

Sweet fields are only sweet to eyes 
Turning anon towards sun and sky : 
What are the fields when visions rise 
Forever from abysms that lie 
Within and wide — with choruses 
Of perfidy and vain regret 
Up-issuing from a depth that is 
Unfathomed by our knowledge yet ? 
What are the fields to leaden eyes 
Down-weighted to the things that are 
Instant — immeasurable — when lies 
No way of ours thro' fields afar ? 

The homeward comer can descry 

By half a league in further view 

The hills where danced his childhood's eye, 

And the tall turrets that he knew. 

The chapel bells, the farm -yard's bark, 

Further for him the roadway's ring ; 

The miles are scarcely paced, for hark 

Voices of home are murmuring ! 

To him returning light of heart — 

But there are hearts whose homes are such 

As the worm has in cankered bark, 

Whose habitation, at his touch 

In turning, crumbles into dust ; 

Whose chambers, where he goes for ease, 

Are beds of horror and disease ; 

Whose stairs are hollow, festered thro' — 

Whose daily steps stir Death anew. 

Such home had Countess May, for she 
Fled from its shelter hastily ; 



I08 THE TALE. 

Fled from its portals high and wide 
Alone : neither the little Earl, 
Her cousin, nor a crew of men 
Nor maids she took, nor aught beside 
Herself sorrowing. She fled, as when — 
Gyrating in continuous whirl — 
The birds of air swing in the wind 
Revolving and returning, one — 
With wing and swiftest thought combined- 
Drops from the aspect of the sun. 
Leaving the circling groups behind, 
Or as a star — 

Concordant singing with the spheres, 
In harmony of rank and voice 
For ages swung in company. 
Springs from its parapet afar. 
Burdened by doubt and sudden fears. 
Flies headlong to this vale of tears. 
Red with the fury of its choice. 

So fled the Countess May, intent — 

As when on migratory wings. 

Trooping, the denizens of air 

Rise from the shores on distance bent. 

Flying afar for changing things, 

Determined over sea to Avhere 

New suns new slumberers arise — 

As speed the birds — the Countess flies. 

Youth is no signal of the heart : 
Is Age a counter, cut and clear ? 
Do veins decrease, run slow, depart 
As the instalments of a year ? 



THE TALE. IO9 

The Countess May a mother is : 
What sage shall shake his beard at this, 
Exclaiming : " Love is past and thou, 
Forgetful of its blossoms, now 
Shalt till in Gardens of the Just, 
With plants upspringing from its dust 
Beneficent and merciful — 
Where rows of simpled virtues grow. 
But not of careless odors full." 

I tell him : " Love is free, and so 
The sweetness of its breath will stir 
Perhaps more wild and frequently- 
Dry faded leaves, which lightly go 
From lighter lips, than leaves of her 
The Rose of Pride — weighty with dew 
Offered by eyes all starlight thro'." 

Thro' the long plain of coming years 

Perchance Love's spirit, with a gust 

Of passion, poured his blinding tears : 

Anguish perchance, a shattered trust, 

A faltering heart, ungoverned face. 

Horror of each familiar face. 

The storms of memory whirling dust 

Of vanished days down roads and ways. 

Beating the brain to sudden craze. 

Perchance — who knows the thousand things 

Give to a wanderer hurrying wings ? 

Certain the Countess passed the sea 
Such trackless way a petrel flies ; 
Certain there happ'd some agony 



no THE TALE. 

In lands afar : if other eyes 
Did see the noble lady's tears — 
If wild, sad words on other ears 
Did fall,— 

Certain the seas, recrossed, took 
To their wild hearts the words of pain ; 
The shoreless winds unloosed and shook 
Her tears into the drifting main : 
Certain the Countess came again 
Tearless and still — but in her look 
There was an aspect, born anew — 
Some hand had struck her daily chain 
And forged the rivets up again — 
Slipping a link between the two. 
Ever the seas in wintry wise 
The Countess bore, a yearly guest ; 
And, as the waves forever moan 
With but their meaning only guess'd, 
As winds keep voices of their own — 
Confused and inchoate cries 
To human ears — so human eyes 
Dimly discerned internal tears 
Run freshly from an endless source, 
And understood that visions flew 
Scudding across with rapid train. 
And wings of horror shaped their course- 
Sweeping the spaces of her brain. 

All vanish. — The seas no longer bore 
Her silent lips and searching gaze : 
On some unknown and spiritual shore 
Her restless feet walked other ways : — 
For surely heart and brain like hers. 



THE TALE. Ill 

So vivid, swift, and wonderful, 

Must live : eyes that have looked so long 

Must find at last their vision full. 

SECOND PART. 

Essences are stored within this world, • 

Fusions and flames of restless power 

Interior in the abyss, are whirled, 

Waiting release, the time, the hour. 

For action and destruction kept 

These essences their powers retain 

Uninjured : the bounds that intercept 

Their leaping heats conserve the flame 

Intense. Some signal shall endue 

These darting fires with liberty, 

Th' embrasures of their prison through 

Pouring with wrath, exempt and free, 

By time enraged, by time unbound. 

These tongues of emissary flame 

Shall search this globe's great confines round, 

Relentless in their furious claim. 

'T is possible that powers should sleep 

Unknown of mortal eyes, but still 

Unfading, which their vigors keep 

Untarnished, and their evil will 

Unslacked await to drink its fill. 

'T is possible that man should bear 

Within the nurture of his breast 

Unknown realities : that there, 

Removed from daily interest, 

Far from the arrow of his eye. 

Hidden by beauty, hope, or woe, 



112 THE TALE. 

The germs of overthrow should lie 

Content, as they obscurely grow, 

'T is possible — as Nature keeps 

Her young in dark immunity, 

That force that gathers and power that reaps 

In impotence protected be. 

Are gold and land all that can come 

Downward the course of sire and son ? 

Does the dark feature or the fair 

Alone a parentage declare ? 

Does form its shaping only find— 

Is there no heritage of mind ? 

The Earl was young, the Earl was fair. 

These mountain blasts of icy air 

To him no shake nor shivering bear. 

Thro' hill-side streets and clinging ways 

Where maidens went their flocks to graze, 

His step with equal lightness plays. 

For all that health was in his eye. 

For all that power bided him, 

For all his lands did broadly lie 

Unended to the eyesight dim ; 

For all that years did slowly go 

Filled with the things youth notices — 

For all of that, sad things and low 

Ran surely with these joys of his. 

Why should Lord Arthur cross the sea 

Alone, abstracted, even as she 

More sadly sailed it formerly ? 

I think the Countess fled from him, 

A babe — fearing the grewsome, dim. 

Unspoken something of her tears 



THE TALE. II3 

Would torture him, would bring him fears 

Unsuited to his infant years. 

If this she hoped — Fate she forgot : 

I say there is another lot 

Of heritage than lands. 

Vainly you fled, O mother true. 

With storms you swept, but heavier dew 

Homeward from out the storm-wind blew. 

If man may read the acts that lie 

Transferred into Eternity, 

So would I read the Countess May 

Sailing the seas to outskirts gray — 

But yet perchance I read astray. 

Down from the mountain croppings high 

The wanderer passed with casual eye : 

Lightly from hill-side rocks his feet 

Struck the firm flagstones of the street. 

Never to hospice nor to inn 

Of mountain hamlet ushered in 

More welcome sound of traveller's din. 

Such shelter seeking so he passed 

A narrow turning, enquiring cast 

His onward eyes, and stayed his feet 

For full enjoyment of the sweet, 

So sudden, finding of the Maid 

Before whose eyes he stopped and stayed. 

On oaken lintels restfully 
She leaned, and though his changeless look 
Unwavering stayed, all modest she 
Fled not, nor neither from him took 
Her answering orbs, nor sank, nor shook 



114 THE TALE. 

Of any idle fear, nor sign 

Did utter. She did incline 

In affirmation rather to 

The friendship as it sudden grew 

From sight, nor reason asked, nor knew. 

If something in the world had been 
Lost to Lord Arthur, far, unseen ; 
If something either seemed forgot — 
Awaiting words — or compassed not ; 
If something, with uncanny skill. 
Eluded bonds and pondering will ; 
If something lacked, rounded and'full 
Was now the world, and beautiful. 

Ah me ! we fathom and we find 

The laws of planets and the sun ; 

We storm the rocky walls and grind 

Great monsters small ; of works begun 

We know not when, the alchemy 

Is lettered, numbered, known, and we 

Play with creations carelessly. 

But ah ! our servant is our king : 

The speedy mind, obedient wing 

To our behests, is yet a thing 

Elusive, far, and wandering. 

There is an answer, buried deep, 

To every question in the sweep 

Of endless things : there is reward 

For every effort : nothing is heard 

Alone : but need, and fact, and time 

Are sometimes out — sometimes in chime. 

So when the answer to the need 



THE TALE. II5 

Pursueth with an instant speed ; 
When want is open-mouthed but dumb 
Because relief hath serving come — 
When time is full and words are fair, 
We to our minds as servants are : 
We stand, we recognize, we wait 
With willing service on their state, 

A mountain child and mountain maid : 
Such was her life ; the holy shade 
Of ignorance : the holy dew. 
Falling from Heavenly outskirts blew 
Unbrokenly on morning's dew. 

Unknown 
Was much in life and in the world 
To the young Earl who walked alone 
Strange byway streets. Confusion whirled 
As chance, betimes, his will and schemes — 
'T is hard to shake encumbering dreams 
From Resolution and her deeds. 
Him, wavering, now intercedes 
A purpose and a fair intent, 
Pursuit of Emmaline, and her 
A-winning easily, there went 
Morning and noon, twilight and time. 

The Earl was young, alone, and free ; 
I know the stories of his line 
Forbade all loves where he might be 
Drawn from an exaltation down — 
Lowered to levels not his own — 
Eat coarser grain than had been sown. 



Il6 THE TALE. 

To be alone, and young, and free 
Will sometimes judge unwittingly : 
Lord Arthur as a traveller stayed — 
A friend he grew — as friend delayed — 
The friend a lover easily made — 
Betrothed, an honest lover stayed. 

Sweet Emmaline ! The father last — 
With unfilled knowledge of degree, 
Something abashed, concurrence pass'd 
His tutelage relinquished he : 
For Emmaline, his child in heart, 
His child by right, his child in place. 
Was orphan still of foreign race, 
Occurring strangely to his care. 

I say not mine the lips that are 
Sweet-fashioned for a honeyed song : 
I say, although I wandered far. 
Haunting the busiest ways along, 
Or fled from each assembled throng. 
Never to me the rhymes belong 
Of melody, grace delicate. 
Of tripping measures, nicely meet, 
Of phrase inventive, pure, discreet, 
Singing such burden as her fate. 

Madame Lavierge, in sudden maze, 
With beating heart her eyes aghast, 
Unrolled beheld her unquiet past ! 
Unquiet 't is to live as she 
Lived in her pleasures formerly : 
Unquiet — thoughtless — wild — distress'd- 
She read her passions at their best. 



THE TALE. 11/ 

We change : some suddenly — some slow 
In wearing from the worse to good : 
What matters if no currents flow 
Purer, betimes, from baser flood, 
What matters quickness and despatch ? 
The unholy to the bottom goes : 
Far spirit eyes bend down and watch 
Limpid reflections disclose, 
As the undesirable clay 
Links underneath, and hides away. 

We change. Madame Lavierge as well 
Was wholly changed — tho' suddenly : 
No friendly contact with the world 
Could please her heart, no tale as told 
In madder days permitted she 
A lingering in her mind to dwell : 
All severed — beauty, wealth, and ease 
She left, to choose contempt, disease, 
Pain, poverty, forgetfulness — 
Hardship, obscurity, distress. 
Such choice is made by her who goes 
Beyond the rigid doors which close 
Their iron clasp with ringing noise. 

I do not write to criticise ; 
I do not write a charge that lies 
Opposing to her swift retreat — 
I cannot tell : Surely she spent 
Much purpose, praying ere she went 
Immediate from her friends — and more, 
Babe Emmaline — the heart, the core 
Of hearts. Surely convicted she 



Il8 THE TALE. 

Before her judgment throne should be, 
Without reprieve such sentencing 
Accepting as a righteous thing. 

I cannot tell : I know she went. 
Strange that our actions give assent 
To seeming freak, to seeming queer 
Distempered dreams : yet never freer, 
More even, or happy-minded went 
A votary on pleasure bent, 
Than this, the child of pleasure, past 
To shadows far outside the cast 
Of sunlight and harmonious ease. 

A convent and unbroken rest : 
This, partly told, the father guessed 
Sweet, suffering, and world-oppress'd 
Madame Lavierge accepted, took 
When coils of pleasure off she shook. 
Taking in turn Truth — single, pure. 

It was not wonderful she knew 

None of a rugged nature through : 

It was not wonderful that hers 

Were comrades mirth more often stirs : 

Her paths were walks where seldom rears 

Such hardy stems as anchorites. 

The sensuous flowers feed on delights 

Of soil and sun ; o'erladen blows 

Each kissing wind thro' shades and rows. 

Such airs are things of tenderness, 

Such colors do their flowers address 

To lightness, love, and delicate ease : — 



THE TALE. I I9 

From this the wary mother flees. 

To mountains and the mountain heart — 

The hills of strength and pure estate — 

High summits of the better part, 

To these she gives the baby's fate. 

Ah ! ever true are hills and heights : 
If valleys deaden, rankly grow, 
Outlined their lasting smile invites 
Upward the wearied from below. 
The mother knew, the mother rose 
Aslant the mountains, and did lay, 
Far from the vales where noisome grows 
Profuse destruction and decay, 
Emmaline, to look on hills alway. 

So, looking on the hills^ she loved 
The stalwart aspect, and the good ; 
Lord Arthur strongly, lightly moved, 
His face was of an earnest mood : 
Young Emmaline, with heritage 
Of lowland sense and luxury. 
Did underneath his countenance 
Refined lineage descry : 
Did see the subtle excellence 
Of judgment polished, nicely fine, 
The stamp of old experience 
Unbroken running down its line. 

She saw : not strangely did his tone 
Enlighten ears whose inner sense 
Gathered the meaning, quick, foregone. 
Of all he said — equal, intense. 



120 THE TALE, 

If much he said, it was not all : 
Why will the great, ashamed, refuse ; 
Curtail their greatness to the small — 
Who equally decline to choose ? 
His lands he offered not, nor dared 
Engulf her nothing in his much ; 
Her heart with simple heart he snared — 
As man he came — and loved as such. 

Time passes swifter than the sun 

His record keeps of nights and days 

When hearts are struck in unison, — 

All haste comparative delays. 

'T was not an earl and lowly maid 

In contact on the mountain side, 

'T was there a venturous youth who played 

Swiftly his moments for a bride ! 

To worshippers there is a sense 

Unearthly when a Preacher's voice 

Gravely dispenseth sacraments. 

Some at the holy words rejoice ; 

Some tremble as he, slow, combines 

The words of Heaven and words of men ; 

Some credit as he, calm, deiines 

The rules whereby we rise again. 

Some fire — go forth — urge eloquent 

Their fellow-men : some penitent 

Retiring pray — obscurely ply 

Preferments for eternity : 

All — nearly all — nod and decide 

Affirmatively for a Bride. 

Her beauty, grace, her youth, her pure 



THE TALE. 121 

Unspotted aspect to endure, 

With aid of sacrament and bond, 

To this world's outlines — and beyond. 

If ever, truly, one might tell 
An end, as the beginning well. 
Surely as Emmaline did lay 
Her hand in his and softly pray. 
In second to the Preacher's tone. 
Up to the distant, spiritual Throne, 
If ever — surely conjunctive then 
Run word Heaven and wish of men. 

'T is done. — The day is down and sleep 
Looses the curtains in his keep : 
A night to all, a Wedding-Night 
To these, extinguishes the light 
Gently of day, while mild repose 
Hides griefs, and joys unveiled disclose. 

Ere the Bride, trembling, went to rest, 
The Preacher on her bosom hung 
An amulet, closed and tightly press'd 
By golden bands that circling clung 
'Twixt jewels, which far a radiance flung. 
This hid for near a score of years 
A face which loving, wet with tears. 
Did then, with eager, suffering eyes. 
And ringing ears with crooning cries. 
Did then depart — as what ? — as does. 
And only does, in stricken woes, 
A mother from the child she loves ! 



122 THE TALE. 

Emmaline unbound the charm and drew, 
In wonder half, and half in fear, 
(Why did she dread this knowledge new ?) 
The flickering light closely and clear. 
Lord Arthur looked on Emmaline, 
Hers was the face he cared to see, 
No mother's love could now entwine 
Between their loves — his love must be 
Too fierce for other loves to shine. 

Does it seem strange a feeling grew 
So suddenly betwixt these two ? 
I cannot wonder that a day 
Such recognition should display — 
The portrait face was Countess May ! 

'T is said an orchestra and choir 
Incessantly thro' Heavenly ways 
Go singing. 'Mong the redeemed are 
Eliminate voices ; — wondrous plays 
Of instrument and divine tone 
Meet and repeat in unison. 
It is not strange if Heaven is full — 
Expanding so — of melody, 
It is not strange if capable 
Betimes are movements to decline, 
Lifting thro' space in echoes fine, 
And fall upon thy ears — or mine. 

Lord Arthur in the dead of night — 
Fleeing afar — guessed near aright 
In harkening to the wavering call 
Of sudden sweetness the choirs let fall. 



THE TALE. 1 23 

He guessed the movement and intent 
Of quivering strings and singing blent ; 
He guessed that Angels in the air 
Importunate, disturbed were, 
That Love should so surrendered be 
To rage, revolt, unsanctity. 

Sometimes an hour serves to grow 
The stature — to determine age : 
Sometimes the spiritual masters show 
Life written on a single page : 
Sometimes our hearing is akin 
To those who hear the seraphim. 
At least Lord Arthur did discern 
Some Heavenly aspects, and did turn 
Upward his eyes, and upward yearn. 

So he : perhaps some other went 
Ignorant of songs and instrument. 




THE RIVER XENIL. 



O EGRET, Xenil, goes with thy tide, 
* ^ Remembrance fastens to the shore 
Where Pleasure walked thy way beside, 
And Music ran thy waters o'er. 

Xenil, I leave thee. Fair as day 
Thy courses stretch the plain along, 

And run their slow and silver way 
Like turnings in a solemn song ! 

Here the fond child refuses still 
To quit his play amid thy tide ; 

And the swart peasant throws at will 
His limbs adown thy grassy side. 

The women washing on thy shore 
Sing at their work and plash amain, 

Mingling their legend's simple lore 
In thy sweet rush with harsher strain. 

While I, who love thee more than they, 
Though but a stranger in thy land. 

Must in the distance take my way. 
And tread upon a colder strand. 
124 



THE RIVER XENIL. 



12 C^ 



Xenil, I leave thee. Long as life 

Walks its rough way these toils among> 

So long, companioned in the strife, 
Shall run the quiet of thy song ! 





BEAUTY. 



A^/HAT is beauty — sight or sound- 
" " In vision or in melody ? 
Lies it in a slip of ground, 
Or the singer in his tree ? 

When I see a winsome maid, 

Gazing is sufficient bliss, 
But if her laughter comes delayed, 

All my heart impatient is. 

What is beauty ? When she flies 
My arms outspring an obstacle ; 

Not gazing, nor in hearing lies 
Enjoyment — in touch 't is full. 

What is beauty ? Ever change 
Cherub faces for the sweet. 

But melancholy, songs that range 
The way-sides of obstructed feet. 

Is beauty separate — alone, 
Distinct, divided and entire ? 

Or does she leave when she is gone 
Tempered beneficence — as fire ? 
126 



BEAUTY. 12; 

I cannot tell : my beauty is 
Intangible, and altering much ; 

Whate'er is beautiful, as this 

I strive to form — and follow such. 

Should the Enchantress display. 
Fleeing, some fair, uncovered prize, 

Lo, never sped a wight that way 
More swift of foot — daring of eyes ! 

If in the chase her cumbering vest 
The Nymph discard, and lighter flee. 

With doubled eagerness are press'd 
My heedless feet by thorny tree. 

Should she escape to reappear 

Downcast and modest to mine eyes, 

I would as soon the leopard tear — 
Or bait a lion of his prize. 

As Beauty is I take her — who 

Compelleth Beauty to appear ? 
Seek ye the long horizon's view 

For Beauty — I await her here. 



^h 



tj^ 




SONG OF THE SERPENT TO EVE. 



POLDING, 

■*■ Turning, 

Twining, 

Holding, 

By thy feet my coils are wound, 

Rosy feet on flowers reposing — 
Dewy blossoms dropt aground : 
Tender fragrance interposing 
Serpent bondage gently crushes, 

From the coverts sweet disclosing 
Mingled hissing and its hushes. 

Glittering, 
Gliding, 
Shining, 
Streaming 
Jewels on thy limbs I bind. 
Stealing gently 
And appealing 
Coils The Serpent, and his kisses, 
Thine approaching, 
Thine inviting, 
Sing in sibilant, low hisses. 
128 



SONG OF THE SERPENT TO EVE. 1 29 

Upward gliding 

Sweet dividing 
Under loving arms I find : 

Tightly holding, 

Brightly folding 
Flashing I undo and wind. — 

Singing, singing, 

Ever ringing, 
Travelling swift my hisses turn ; 

Cool and gently, 

Or intently 
Eager, ceaseless kisses burn. 

Growing, 
Glowing, 
Passion flowing 
From my lips, I softly press 
Thine, and Spirit 
Doth inherit 
An unearthly tenderness. 

Laughing, smiling. 

Care beguiling, 
Listen — other lispings cry ! 

Thee only nearing — 

All others fearing — 
Sings a little lullaby ! 

See The Serpent, gift-bestowing. 

Pressing harder binds his own : — 
See The Serpent, red and glowing. 
Unwinding laughs — is stretched and gone I 




THE JOURNEY OF LORD EGLAMORE 

AN ALLEGORY OF DEATH. 



O Eglamore was sad : for he had watched 
^ Innumerable days his castle gates, 
Ridden the waving fields and crossed the woods 
Expectant, with his knights and speedy squires. 
Day after day on the horizon far, 
Or imminent over a mountain's edge, 
He saw the fastened helmet of his foe 
And felt the fires fly from his glistening eyes. 
But Eglamore was safe if e'er he went 
Accoutred by the day, and nightly slept 
Upon the hollow fastness of his shield. 
Such was the mystic legend of his birth. 
And by such right he paced the fruitful field. 
Nameless his foe, rising across the sun, 
Swept on the windy clouds of every day 
Circling the hills : down the swift blasts of night 
His armor rang, or standing in the moon 
Fearful his shadow blackened on the ground. 
He was — but spake not. Never his clattering steel 
Shook off the scabbard ; never the gloomy shield 
130 



THE JOURNEY OF LORD EGLAMORE. 131 

Gave cries of life from dinted strokes and blow. 
Silent he watched — swiftly each onset fled. 

Since Eglamore was Lord of Castellow 
He never parted from his steel-blue arms ; 
Never the lady Hilda, his sweet wife, 
Lay ruddy warm in his embrace, but e'er 
Was chill and cold upon his shirt of mail 
By day, and in her canopy o' night 
Knew not the presence of her lord, who slept 
At castle ward, pillowed upon his shield. 
Thus Eglamore kept well the waving fields 
Of his hereditary ancient lords. 
And parted not, by light of sun or moon. 
From the blue arms of still security. 
So was he sad when, turning in a dream, 
Dreaming of Hilda, lady of his heart, 
Imagining she lay with guile beset. 
Hemmed in the compass of compulsion vile — 
Seeking her lord — he, turning in his dream. 
Fled weaponless the castle ward o' night, — 
With stony eyes sped o'er the moonlit wall. 
There waiting was his foe with vizor up. — 
First time in all the years of watchfulness 
Lord Eglamore beheld those spirit eyes, 
And flaming countenance demoniac. 
Successful with its show of glittering teeth. 
Fear fell on Eglamore, and dreaming fled, — 
Fled too resistance, and salvation's hope. 
Obedient to the motion of his king. 
Lord Eglamore sprang on the crupper seat, 
And the fierce steed, snorting, his pace began. 
First were the highways known to Eglamore, 



132 THE JOURNEY OF LORD EGLAMORE. 

Daily the circuits of his sweeping course, 
Then farther came the bounds occasional 
Of transient journeys and their utmost space. 
O'er these and still into demesnes unknown, 
The riders sped, and the great carrier-horse, 
More rapid in the thinness of an air 
Ethereal, aided with wings his flight. 
Heaving the side of a purpureal mount. 
Spread from the vantage of its airy top. 
Lord Eglamore beheld the glittering course 
Of intricate assembled suns afar 
Beyond a vale, whirling their rapid ways. 
Into the vale descending, with the sweep 
Of reefed wings driving an arrowy prow. 
They cleaved the vapors pressing on a plain 
Darksome and vast. Here the dense atmosphere 
Breaking with forked issues of a tongue 
Most horrible, the Demon paused, and spake : 
" Yon shore, lit in the revolutions of 
A thousand circling suns, is that country 
Sung in thy mother's songs of lullaby, 
Rung in thy daily curfew, and enwrit, 
Deserted, round the legend of thy shield, — 
This land is not for thee." Then Eglamore, 
Smitten to heart with fairness of the rifts 
Gleaming at intervals through clouds of woe, 
And low reverberations of sweet sounds 
Piercing the hideous echoes round about. 
Leaped from the horseman with a cry of hope. 
Headlong a cliff, down to a bitter flood. 
On every wave that rolled with dreadful crest 
The locks of demons floated, over eyes 
Malignant with their flames of quenchless fire. 



THE JOURNEY OF LORD EGLAMORE. 1 33 

The hollow troughs of seas embottomed were 

With mouths innumerable of horrid gulp, 

Foaming and cavernous. All sight and sound 

Of the far country fled, but cries of rage, 

The bated scream of fear, with moan of pain 

And groans of desolation, filled the air — 

Like hooks from Hell unknobbed hands of age 

Rose from their watery fastnesses and grabbed 

Lord Eglamore in passing, but he shook 

Their dread embrace, struggling the waters thro'. 

Then came the swimming bosoms, ravishing, 

Of maidens, breasting the unquiet seas, 

Pledging their arms of safety for his grasp : 

But as he paused, their eyes, with furious fires 

Expectant shot sharp flames of conquest out. 

Wherein the waters hissed exultingly. 

These Eglamore, with speechless fear, forsook, 

Tasting the brine washing their floating breasts, 

And to the caverns of engulfing seas 

Fled on the surface of a raging wave. 

Hurling its dreadful eddies upon rocks 

Disclosing from their beds of buried slime — 

Unscathed thro' these, by channels fierce, he passed, 

Brushing contiguous the watery lairs 

Of shapes unspeakable, and things unknown. 

Upward the side opposing, with a whirl 

He, bounding, saw a blessed sight, and heard 

Most wonderful some measured cadences 

Coming from strokes recurrent of slow oars 

Moving serenely over waters still. 

In anthem rowed the dripping blades and fell 

'Mersing their silver paddles in a tide 

To many hues cloven and beaten up. 



134 THE JOURNEY OF LORD EGLAMORE. 

Lord Eglamore held by a buoyant bed 
Of tangled fern and matted sea-weed fine, 
Watching the circles bending from the beak 
Incoming, and with open, ravished ears 
Catching the singing of incessant lips. 
Like twisted strings of thousands in accord 
Reverberating flew the echoes fine, 
Wedded to words of cheer and comfort high. 
Choral they came at every even breath 
Dipping their oars, driving the curved beak. 
An idle helm the helmsman scantly held. 
Chanting the burden of their sweet refrain 
He watched the shining faces of his crew. 
Finger aloft, withstood their glistening oars. 
And with a grasp of comfort, from his bed 
Of floating weed, drew Eglamore aboard. 
Then curving with concordant stroke and shout, 
The gilded prow ran over ripples wide. 
Returning to her port in that far land, 
Espied by Eglamore, before he leapt 
From his grim captor down the bitter flood. 
Into the harbor of that golden strand 
The rowers came, and off the level shore. 
Surmounting hills, and roads of porphyry. 
With many a turn formed for espial high. 
Rang a redoubled echo of the song 
Sung by the rowers on their homeward way. 








FINALE TO THE POEMS. 



T AM not he : touched by the setting sun 
-^ Another, rising from the rest of day, 
Replete with vigor, his strong instrument strung,. 
Brushing inertia from his lips away, 
Shall unto you, O Peoples of the West, 
Sing thine own deeds — exaltedly express'd. 

I am not he : being but lightly sent 

As prophet of a master following : 

Forerunning distantly the slow advent, 

Of One, who, brooding beneath Passion's wing. 

Is nursing at the fonts of Truth and Song — 

Draining the words that to his lips belong. 

I am not he : the chords I strike are old : 
Experience the well I laboring drew : 
Lo, when this coming Singer shall unfold 
His characters of music, wild and new. 
All ears shall open to the strange refrain, 
And these old notes shall not be heard again. 

Lo, thro' the mists of failure in mine eyes 
All indistinct I see his radiant shape ; 

135 



136 FINALE TO THE POEMS. 

Thro' the tame stops of my old exercise 
Drift melodies that his young whispers make : 
Would I might be until the roseate dew- 
Flies from the chords his hands are passing thro'! 

Prepare ! Let Science, Art, and Song prepare : 
Garnish their homes : their kingly vestures spread 
Till priests and prophets in their fanes declare 
To circling worshippers their laws are dead — 
New transcripts fall unrolling to the gaze, 
O'er maxims new the eye, astonished plays ! 

But ye whose ears intently turn to Song, 
Whose willing lips for new vibrations wait, 
Contentedly bear the old burdens on, 
Cheat Silence of his dark, forgetful state : 
Let anthems old to the new movement bring 
Their hoary needs for his sweet cherishing. 

As moves the system thro' its day and years, 
Its night and morning, on a certain way, 
So, alternate in laughter and in tears, 
Runs man the goal to an unharass'd day : 
As suns grow old new sweetness on the tree 
Foretells new richness and fertility. 

I am not he : a messenger apace — 
The glimmer from a light invisible — 
A broken dream by outskirts of a place 
Gone at the working — an empty bell, but full 
Of vacancy — soundless I am to him 
Slumbering in charge of watchful Cherubim. 






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